


This Modern Love

by A_M_Kelley



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Bullying, Changing Tenses, Closeted Character, Coming of Age, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, First Dates, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Punk Bucky Barnes, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, pre-serum!Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> There was something truly beautiful lying just underneath Bucky's sickly pale exterior and Steve knew if he dug down deep enough there would be a heart of gold. But there was also an overwhelming sense of heartache and instability in Bucky's life that worried Steve. He didn't didn't know which one frightened him more. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Bloc Party song of the same name. Also with a special guest appearance by the Ramones. Plus, Bucky is loosely based off of Sid Vicious... So there's that...
> 
> This story will be explicit in future chapters but right now it's sorta a slow burn.

Steve has never snuck out after his curfew before and he wouldn't have done it if it weren't for his friend Tony. There had been some big talk about a new band that Steve evidently just _had_ to hear. To be honest, Steve wasn't particularly interested in the _punk_ genre but he was willing to give it a listen if it meant that Tony would finally shut up about it.

But when Steve was finally able to sneak out after his step-dad went to sleep and he arrived at the address, Tony was no where in sight. There were a bunch of kids around his age milling around and getting up to god knows what. He thought maybe his friend was merely late, so Steve waited outside for a half hour or so. Still, there was no sight of Tony anywhere and Steve stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets in discontent.

"Great. Just my luck," Steve mutters to himself.

Steve had half a mind to just cut his losses and go home before his step-dad figured out he was gone, but then music started to play from inside the club. It was somewhat muffled but it was enough to arouse his curiosity and lure him in nonetheless. It wouldn't hurt to at least take a look. It'd only be for a song or two.

Steve walks through the somewhat crowded entrance, having to squeeze his small frame through the writhing bodies hopping to the beat of the music. The club itself wasn't very spacious to begin with and it made the air around him close and stuffy. It probably wasn't the best place to be considering his asthma, but Steve was smart enough to bring his inhaler. He didn't need Bruce, his step-father, getting a call from the hospital anytime soon.

Steve was too short to see over most of the people and had no idea where he was until he hit the edge of the stage. The young people around him pushed and bumped against him to the point where Steve was being crushed against the stage, but luckily the crowd relented a bit when the song eventually faded and the band kick started into another.

Steve gripped onto the edge and peered up at the band as they jerked and gyrated around the stage. They all had similar haircuts and they wore leather jackets. It was as if they were trying to portray the effect of wearing a uniform. Steve kind of liked the idea of that.

The lead singer stood before them like a giant, towering over the audience as his voice cracked and deepened intentionally, giving their music a unique voice. The guitarist was firmly rooted to the ground in a stance as his hands doled out a fast riff with a perpetual scowl across his face. The bassist hopped around as he tried to keep up with the guitarist and the drummer sustained the rhythm with an equally fast tempo.

But Steve was absolutely mesmerized by it all. He never heard anything like it before and ended up staying for more than a couple songs. The music itself was fast and each song barely lasted for more than two minutes. By the time Steve had got there, he nearly heard the full set after just ten minutes. They certainly wasted no time in giving the people what they wanted. They didn't even pause in between songs, at least not for long anyway.

In the middle of one of their songs, Steve got up on the tips of his toes and glanced around the vicinity of the club. There were a lot of _unique_ individuals, to say the least, who had crazy hair and wore torn clothes or as his friend put it "DIY". There was one person in particular who caught his eye amongst the crowd, though.

He was standing at the other side of the stage, hopping slightly to the music as people carelessly knocked into him. His hair was black and spiked messily in conflicting directions as if he had woke up that morning and didn't bother to comb it out. Steve couldn't tell what he was wearing but it looked similar to a lot of "DIY" stuff, he supposed.

Steve watched the other man for longer than he intended and smiled slightly when the messy haired man started to chant the words to some song about not wanting to go down to the basement. Or, you know, something among that nature. It was too fast to keep up with when Steve was so taken by the man.

During the midst of all the excitement and noise the man Steve had been watching turned his head and caught his eye from across the way. He gave Steve a brief smirk as if being stared at was a normal occurrence for him and it probably was. He was rather handsome despite looking like he hasn't showered in a week.

It seemed like the punk was trying to work his way through the crowd to get to Steve but when the band's set was done Steve was pushed with the rest of the crowd, being forced out of the building without wanting to. Steve lost sight of the man after that even as he tried to rebel against the majority of the crowd.

Once Steve was outside he realized he had been led out of a side door instead of the front, leaving him in an alley. He was able to breathe again and was a little relieved by the fact, but he didn't know where the man who had caught his eye went. Steve would be lying if he said he wasn't a little disheartened by this. He wasn't sure if he should stick around and wait or just go home.

The crowd dispersed for the most part, leaving Steve all alone for the moment, and he had the notion of circling around to the front to meet up with that guy but never got the chance to. Steve ran into someone he went to school with. Someone who wasn't always on the best terms with him.

His name was Gilmore Hodge and he was an asshole of the jock kind. Steve had been terrorized by him on many occasions for being gay, but this was all based on a hunch since no one knew Steve was gay, aside from his friend Tony and Tony would never sell him out like that.

Gilmore grabbed Steve roughly by the front of his button up shirt, yanking him in close before shoving him into the wall forcefully. The sharp collision knocked Steve's spine the wrong way and it left him slightly _out of it_ for a moment or two.

"I always figured a faggot like you would be obsessed with that kind of garbage music," Gilmore spat almost instantly.

"I guess that explains why you're here then," Steve retorts, coughing slightly from the impact.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gilmore demands, grabbing Steve by the shirt again.

"Nothing," Steve dismisses nonchalantly, readying himself for the punch he knows is coming. "Just wondering what kind of business a _straight_ , rock n' roll loving, jock has at a place like this..."

"Are you calling me a faggot?" Gilmore accuses aggressively, getting the hint of Steve's taunt.

"I'm surprised someone with your intellectual disadvantage actually caught onto that," Steve mocks with faux praise.

Steve was thankful that he was able to at least get one more retort in before he was punched hard in the gut. The force of it was enough to pick Steve off the ground, causing his breath to rush out in a pained grunt. When Steve regained some of his former stance he raised his arms up for protection, but it did him no use. Gilmore's fist landed a couple more blows across his face until they finally stopped.

"Hey!" A man yelled from the entrance of the alleyway, causing Steve and Gilmore to look over. It was the man from inside the club and he stood broadly and defiantly. "Why don't you pick on someone who can actually defend themselves?"

"This doesn't concern you, _pal_ ," Gilmore threatens, scowling in disgust as if the young punk is beneath him somehow. "Why don't you take a number and I'll be with you in a second."

"There's not a chance in hell I'm waiting for you. You're gonna have to deal with me now, cupcake," the punk orders and Steve swears that it makes him swoon a little.

"Your _type_ just don't know when to stop, do you?" Gilmore asks rhetorically, pushing Steve away to stalk over towards the punk. "How many of you faggots do I have to knock some sense into before you learn?"

It's safe to say that, that is the final insult Gilmore is able to get in before the punk is throwing well-aimed punches at him. Steve watches from the ground as his savior doles out a beating on Gilmore and all Gilmore can do is try to block the fists as they rain down on him.

The punk grabs ahold of Gilmore and chucks him out onto the main street, kicking him in the ass to send him on his way with his tail between his legs. No one else seems to question this or even mind for that matter. Not their business, not their problem as far as they're concerned.

The man turns back to Steve who is still cowering by some garbage bins and walks over to him. He comes to a stop in front of Steve, offering a helping hand down to him, but Steve is a little wary of this at first even though he has no reason to be. The punk smirks a little, like he did earlier in the club, but does retract his hand.

"I may look like I'm up to no good, but I can assure you that I'm sweet as a gumdrop," he remarks wryly, hoping that a joke would be enough to loosen Steve up.

"Sorry," Steve apologizes with a shake of his head. He takes the man's warm hand and is helped to his feet. "I don't mean to insult you after what you just did for me. My head must've got knocked the wrong way."

"It's cool, tiger. I get it. Can't be too careful," he reassures as Steve dusts himself off. He offers the shorter man a proper hand this time to introduce himself. "I'm Bucky, by the way."

"Steve," he reciprocates, shaking Bucky's hand and noticing the split skin on his knuckles. "Your hand looks pretty dinged up."

"Yeah?" Bucky humors, looking over his bruised knuckles with a playful look. "You should see the other guy's face."

"I probably will tomorrow," Steve comments.

"Why? Does he live in your neighborhood or something?"

"No, he's just some asshole I go to school with," Steve brushes off without caution.

"Oh... You, uh, still in highschool?" Bucky inquires, stepping a little closer to Steve as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Unfortunately..." Steve sighs with a blush.

Bucky's much more dominating and looming presence makes Steve's stomach queasy in the best way possible. He is absolutely overpowering in every sense of the word, but not in a way that makes Steve feel in danger.

"Are you always allowed out this late on a school night?" Bucky flirts, letting his charisma charm Steve further. But not in a macho jerk way.

"No," Steve admits with a nervous smile. Bucky makes him feel so giddy that it's uncanny. "I actually snuck out. It's my first time doing it as well."

"Well, don't worry. I won't rat you out. Your secret's safe with me, tiger," Bucky promises, winking at Steve and giving him another charming smile that could break a thousand hearts. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm seventeen," Steve tells him a little timidly. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to be out without a curfew," Bucky wisecracks, making Steve chuckle. "Honestly though, I'm twenty-three. Does that scare you? Hanging around with an older guy?"

"Should I be scared?" Steve inquires, getting a little flirtatious.

Bucky grins widely, biting slightly on his bottom lip as he becomes more and more taken with Steve and his perpetual innocence. He's never wanted to take anyone home more than he wants to take Steve home right now. Bucky is snapped out of his musings when he notices Steve start to tremble.

"Are you cold?" Bucky inquires.

"What?" Steve asks dumbly after getting lost in Bucky's smile.

"You're shivering," Bucky points out.

He's right. It was pretty cold out and Steve was shivering despite wearing his jacket, but I guess that's the disadvantage of being so smaller than most people. Steve consciously wraps his arms around himself to keep warm but Bucky is already shrugging off his leather jacket for him.

"Here, you can have mine," Bucky offers, throwing his jackets around Steve's slender shoulders like a gentleman.

"I couldn't--" Steve begins to protest out of embarrassment.

"Letting you freeze is not an option," Bucky argues, ignoring Steve's willful pride.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks warily when he sees Bucky is only wearing a muscle shirt with an obscure band on the front.

"Yeah," Bucky encourages, gesturing with his hand in a laid back expression. "I don't live too far from here anyway."

Steve reluctantly accepts it with an embarrassment, yet thankful, grin, pulling it around himself and nestling his small frame into it. The jacket itself smells relatively okay despite Bucky looking rather unwashed. It smells mainly of sweat but there is also a faint smell that is entirely Bucky somehow. Maybe shampoo? Cologne, perhaps? Either way, Steve feels safe with it around him.

"Speaking of which, I was just about to leave actually," Bucky elaborates, hoping to peak Steve's curiosity further. "Do you wanna come over and keep me company? We could listen to some records or something?"

"I'm not sure..." Steve trails off, feeling his heart race even faster when Bucky casually plants a hand against the brick wall next to Steve's head. "I really shouldn't stay out--"

"Yeah, well, it's too late for that. You're already here so what would be the damage?" Bucky insists, finding faults in every excuse Steve can come up with.

"I guess you have a point," Steve capitulates, giving Bucky a meek smile.

"Then it's settled," Bucky says without further adieu.

He extends a bruised hand towards Steve and the short man takes it without question. They walk away together hand in hand as Bucky leads the way. They keep silent for a couple of blocks, just enjoying the sounds of Brooklyn and the comfort of each other's gentle touch. Steve doesn't know what he's doing. He's never been with a guy before, let alone go home with one. _No_ , Steve thinks, _I don't have to do anything if I don't want to_.

"So, do you like The Ramones?" Bucky asks when they reach the corner of the street to wait for cars to pass.

"Who?" Steve inquires at a loss.

"The band that was playing tonight. The Ramones," Bucky clarifies with an amused grin. "Did you like them?"

"Oh, sure," Steve says after a moment of contemplation. "I thought they were pretty good considering the genre."

"I take it you don't get out too often," Bucky observes, finding himself falling in love with his naivety.

"Not regularly," Steve admits, blushing because he sounds like a total loser compared to Bucky. "I was supposed to meet up with my friend Tony. I probably never would have went otherwise."

"He must be some _friend_ to get you to do something you wouldn't normally do," Bucky discerns, giving Steve a curious gaze and hinting at something else altogether.

"Not that kind of friend," Steve assures, laughing shortly at the thought. "Just really fluent in twisting my arm. I hoped it would finally shut him up. Should've known he was going to flake."

"At least something good came out of it, though," Bucky says as they start walking again.

"And what's that?" Steve asks even though he already knows the answer.

"You wouldn't have met me if he hadn't twisted your arm," Bucky replies with a cheeky smirk and this earns him a small shove from Steve.

A few minutes later they finally reach Bucky's apartment. Bucky leads Steve up the stairs to the third floor where Bucky takes out his keys and unlocks the door, letting it swing open on rusted hinges. It isn't the nicest or cleanest place but it seems manageable and it helps that Bucky seems to light up every place he goes.

"Home sweet home," Bucky says, making a gesture for Steve to enter.

Steve walks in, sliding Bucky's jacket off his shoulders and handing it back to it's rightful owner. The light inside his apartment is much more reliable the the streetlights and Steve is finally able to see Bucky in his entirety and he is not disappointed in the least.

Bucky's hair happens to be a dark brown and not black like Steve had previously thought, but that didn't matter much to him. He had a tattoo of a red star on his left shoulder as well. Bucky was pale and there were dark circles under Bucky's eyes as if he hadn't slept in days, but he was still undoubtedly attractive in every sense.

"Sorry..." Bucky apologizes instantly as he cringes at the mess he forgot was there, or everywhere for that matter. "Loki is kinda a slob. Thinks he rules the world or something asinine like that."

" _Loki_?" Steve inquires with a curious inflection.

"It's my roommate's stage name. He insists that everyone calls him that. Has to do with norse mythology," Bucky informs him. He walks further inside after shutting the front door and motions towards another door. "My room's just over here."

Steve follows him wordlessly and he can't control the way his hands start to shake and sweat profusely. He never expected his night to pan out like this and he's suddenly glad that Tony didn't show up after all. Fate has a funny way of working like that, Steve supposes.

Bucky opens up the door to his room and Steve is absolutely gobsmacked to see it covered wall to wall with various band posters. Some Steve has heard about and others he hasn't. Other than that his room was rather simple with a dresser or two and a bed which is essentially a mattress on the floor. Steve spots a bass guitar near one of the corners and his face lights up slightly.

"Do you play?" Steve asks, hooking a thumb in the direction of the bass.

"Yeah, I'm actually in a band myself," Bucky professes.

"You guys any good?"

"You should come see us play sometime. Judge for yourself," Bucky offers tossing his jacket on one of his dressers. "You thirsty?"

"I'm fine."

Bucky walks over to his bed and sits down, untying his boots and throwing them towards the general direction of his closet. Steve still stands near the door, watching as Bucky leans over to his nightstand to retrieve a little kit. Steve eyes it precariously when Bucky goes to unzip it and pulls out a hypodermic needle with discolored liquid in it.

Bucky sets it down for a moment so he can undo his belt and fasten it around his left bicep. Steve furrows his eyebrows and steps a little closer, noticing the various track marks that lead Steve to believe Bucky has done this on multiple occasions. Bucky tenses up his arm and gets his vein ready for shooting up.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks as Bucky sticks the needle in his arm without even flinching. Steve grimaces at the sight. "What is that?"

"Something to give me a little _balance_ ," Bucky says as if it's the least cryptic thing ever.

Bucky pulls the plunger slightly to mix his blood with the smack before shooting it into his veins. He gasps at the initial wave washing over him and he moans a little at the feeling before he pulls the needle out and puts it away. The belt around his bicep loosens and slides off his arm.

"Isn't that stuff dangerous?" Steve questions with worry.

"Yeah, if you don't know what you're doing," Bucky chuckles. "Do you want to try it?"

"No, thanks," Steve declines, grimacing slightly at the thought.

"Yeah... The needle would probably go right through your arm anyway," Bucky remarks dryly. He motions Steve over with a wave of his hand. "Come here."

Steve is reluctant at first but concedes all the same because despite this hiccup, Steve is willing to turn a blind eye to this particular character flaw. He sits down on the mattress right next to Bucky, looking straight ahead when Bucky reaches out to caress Steve's prominent cheekbone in admiration.

"When I saw you standing there in the club I knew I had to meet you," Bucky gushes with nonsense because his drug addled brain is spewing thoughts he couldn't say on his own. "So naive and innocent. So beautiful."

"You don't mean that," Steve brushes off with bashfulness, letting Bucky toy with his hair.

"Sure I do," Bucky protests, stroking Steve's hair and cupping the back of his neck tenderly.

They lock gazes when Bucky turns Steve's face towards his, smiling subtly as his pupils dilate from his injection as well as arousal. Steve lets Bucky lean in to kiss him and Steve melts into the contact immediately, swooning at how wonderful a kiss can feel. Steve has never been kissed before and Bucky doesn't disappoint him.

Bucky deepens the kiss by opening his mouth to plunder Steve's with his tongue and gets a surprised little noise in return. Steve doesn't know what to do with his hands so he keeps them by his sides the whole time, hoping Bucky knows better than him. _Of course he knows better_ , Steve scolds himself, _Bucky has done this before unlike you_.

Bucky scoots in closer, laying a hand against one of Steve's thighs and pulling him in even closer by the base of his skull. He wants to taste Steve's mouth more thoroughly until his lips and tongue start to go numb from the act. Steve can't help but moan as he tries to keep up with Bucky's overzealous attitude.

Their precision, or lack thereof, was starting to dwindle when Bucky's hand goes elsewhere to cup Steve's groin through his pants. The contact makes Steve jump a little because this, too, is his first time being touched by another human being and it feels too good to be true.

Steve starts to feel himself getting turned on by Bucky's persistence. Bucky's hand is steady even after him shooting up with god knows what. Steve gets uncomfortably hard within his pants and Bucky doesn't help in the slightest when he squeezes his erection.

He arches wantonly into Bucky's body without meaning to and Bucky takes this as a hint to go further. He lays Steve down across the width of his bed, kissing him more fervently and sloppy when he becomes too rapt in Steve's moans. He presses his own hard on into Steve's thigh, humping it slightly to gain some pleasurable friction.

Steve's hands come up to fist in Bucky's muscle shirt, attempting to push him back so he can breathe and get a word or two in before Bucky gets too carried away. Bucky's muddled brain gets the memo and he stops almost immediately soon after. He sits up quickly panting from arousal and exertion, looking down at Steve in a mixture of shame and guilt.

"I'm so sorry," Bucky gushes nervously, wiping the saliva from his lips. "I just wanted to kiss you. I'm usually not this forward the first time... M'sorry."

"It's fine," Steve dismisses, sitting up as well to straighten himself out. His erection is painfully hard and denying it release is _not_ helping at all. "I, uh, should get going anyway. It's really late and I have school in the morning."

"You're not just saying that because things got a little outta hand are you?" Bucky presses, fearing that he might be scaring Steve away.

"No, of course not. I actually do have school in the morning," Steve protests, putting a hand on Bucky's leg to reassure him. "I'd really love to see you again, Bucky. But I have to go, okay?"

 _I shouldn't have done that in front of him_ , Bucky scolds internally, kicking himself for almost blowing it with Steve. _And taking advantage of him like that? What the hell was I thinking? Oh, wait... I wasn't_.

"Wait!" Bucky calls out when Steve stands up and turns to leave. Bucky gets up and grabs his leather jacket, handing it to Steve. "It's still cold outside. You'll need this"

"I'll be fine," Steve reassures him, politely rejecting Bucky's selfless gesture.

"Well, at least take this with you then," Bucky says, opting to grab his Ramones self-titled album he had on vinyl. "You could study up in the meantime. Tell me what you think the next time I see you."

"What if I won't have time to listen to it because I want to see you tomorrow? What then?" Steve inquires, flirting a slightly to break the tension a little.

"Then we'll just have to listen to it tomorrow," Bucky says, smiling with promise. "I could pick you up after school and everything."

"I'd like that," Steve says honestly.

"Then it's a date."

Bucky grabs Steve by the wrist and pulls him in to give him a chaste kiss, pouring every bit of emotion into it so Steve knows how serious he is. Steve is swept away by Bucky's dominating presence that demands the utmost attention. Steve is still a little peeved by Bucky's use of needles, but he supposes nobody is perfect. After all, he sees it happen everyday around him in various ways.

"Be careful, okay?" Steve softly pleads, running his fingertips over Bucky's track marks.

Bucky's jaw clenches reflexively at the comment and it also looks as if he's guilty about using for the first time in his life. Nobody has ever expressed concern about it before and the fact that it was Steve of all people made him suddenly regret doing it altogether.

"I know," Bucky agrees, nodding along to Steve's mild form of scrutiny. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Steve gives him one last smile before clutching the Ramones record to his chest and departing from Bucky's room with a slight bounce in his step. Bucky can hear the front door open and then close from the other room and he shrinks back to his bed as a wave of euphoria takes him away.

Steve is back out on the street as he starts to make his way home after a very eventful night. It was much more quiet now and it was relatively cold still. Steve wishes now he would've taken Bucky's jacket, but that would just be one more thing to explain to Bruce.

By the time Steve does get home it's much later now but if Steve goes to bed immediately he'll at least get five hours of sleep. Steve, of course, does the whole stereotypical _sneaking in after a long night_ routine and sure enough, there is Bruce sitting on the couch waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" Bruce inquires sternly from where he sits, looking disappointed as ever.

"I was at Tony's," Steve lies, knowing that the truth would get him into more trouble than it's worth. "He wanted to lend me this record."

"Is that so? He couldn't have lent that you at school in the morning?" Bruce questions, not buying the excuse for a minute.

"I guess not, sir."

"And what is that?" Bruce asks when he notices the black eye forming on Steve's left eye. "What have I told you about fighting, Stevie?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Please don't be disappointed in me," Steve begs for forgiveness, hanging his head down in shame.

Bruce frowns a little at this display of submission and guilt and caves.

"Come here," Bruce says and Steve complies immediately. Bruce stands up and hugs Steve tightly. "I'm not mad. I was just worried about you. You're a good boy, Steve. Just make sure this doesn't happen again, okay? You've come too far to blow it all now."

"I know, sir," Steve complies, hugging his step father back. He feels a little bad for worrying Bruce but Bruce is a good guy and he doesn't scold him excessively. "I'm sorry."

"Now get to bed," Bruce tells him, dismissing Steve from his presence as he follows his own advice.

And later when Steve has brushed his teeth and finally situated himself, he puts on Bucky's Ramones record.

He falls asleep to _Judy is a Punk_ playing in the background.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this update is boring! But it was just calling out to me!

Steve woke up the next morning to his alarm clock going off. He reached a hand over and shut it off, twisting in his sheets to stretch his tense muscles and vaguely remembering the previous night. Last night had felt so far away, like a half lucid dream, but it did happen, that much was sure.

A sleepy smile spread across his face lazily and the sun bleeding in through his window made him warmer. He cast a gaze over towards his record player, stilling for the briefest moment before shooting out of his bed in a hurry. Steve fell asleep with the record player on and he feared Bucky's Ramones record had been scratched, but much to his surprise the player was off and the record was tucked into it's sleeve.

A sigh washed over him and his heart slowed down a bit. He figured Bruce must have woken up and switched it off sometime during the night. Steve was immensely thankful for that, or else he would have the embarrassing task of getting Bucky a new one after he put his trust in Steve.

Then again, Steve figured both of their first impressions could be excused, especially after what Bucky did last night. It wasn't as if Steve was disgusted by Bucky's vice, he knew a lot of people who were hopelessly addicted to all kinds of things, but he was more or less disappointed more than anything else.

Steve sits back down on his bed, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes with the balls of his hands and yawning softly. He looks over at his clock, noting that he has about an hour before school starts, and drags himself from his bed. Steve sheds his pajamas on the way to his closet, leaving a trail of cloth he vows to clean up later.

Bucky said he wanted to see Steve after school today which means Steve spent an even longer amount of time deciding what to wear. He usually just throws on whatever, but this was a date. Or was it? Either way, Steve was going to dress his best today just in case. Nothing too fancy but nothing particularly drab. But, then again, Bucky would probably look the same as he did last night. Sickly and unwashed.

In the end, Steve was too much of a gentleman and put something nice on despite the formality of the situation. He picked a button up along with a pair of khakis he only wore on special occasions and he went so far as to put on a tie. You can believe he felt giddy doing it, shaking even as he tightened the knot.

Steve slipped out of his bedroom quietly and tip-toed his way to the bathroom, hoping to avoid Bruce because he knew his step father would get curious. He would start asking questions and Steve wasn't sure if he'd be able to lie right in Bruce's face like he had last night. The bathroom door shuts behind him with a barely there click before Steve rifles through the medicine cabinet for gel.

When Steve shuts the cabinet he looks at his reflection in the mirror and widens his eyes when he notices the purple-ish halo around his left eye. Steve sighed out a silent curse, lifting up his shirt to see another bruise just below his ribs. He suddenly felt sore all over. He remembered Gilmore punching him in the face and stomach last night, but he didn't think it would leave any bruises.

Instead of dwelling on it, Steve combed out his sleep mussed hair and slicked up his comb with gel, proceeding to style it the way he normally did on such occasions. Maybe he fussed with his hair a little more than he usually did, but it's not like he was vain or anything. He just wanted to look nice for Bucky and hopefully deter attention from his eye.

He went through his other morning motions as he got ready for school, unconsciously humming random chords from _Judy is a Punk_. Steve was so wrapped up in his musings that he didn't even hear the faint shuffle of feet carrying throughout the small apartment. He prodded at his black eye, squinting whenever he poked too hard. Steve wished he could cover it up somehow, even though he was used to going to school with bruises and scrapes.

Bruce's door was still closed as Steve crept back into his own room to collect a textbook or two as well as his notebook and slipped them into his messenger bag. He slung it over his shoulder and shut his door quietly, walking down the hall carefully and avoiding each creaky floorboard. But his efforts to keep quiet were all for nothing because Bruce was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

The smell of pancakes and bacon hit his nose and Steve stopped instantly, turning towards the crackle of grease. Bruce was in an undershirt and boxers with his back towards Steve, cocking his elbows out as if it flip whatever he had in the frying pan. It surprised Steve because he hasn't seen Bruce in the kitchen since... Steve tries to push the thought out of his mind before it could form a secure little home in his mind. So he steps further into the kitchen, setting his bag down on the linoleum.

"Good morning, Steve," Bruce greets without turning around.

"You're up early," Steve points out, coming to sit at the foldout dining table.

"I thought I'd make you breakfast for a change," he says, preparing a plate for Steve. "I hope you're hungry."

Bruce shuts off the stove, setting down his spatula and grabbing Steve's plate to bring it over to him. Bruce sets down the plate in front of Steve, arching his eyebrows when he notices Steve's amount of personal grooming. He looked like he was going out to a fancy restaurant or something.

"Is it picture day at school or something?" Bruce inquires with a soft chuckle, walking over to get Steve some orange juice.

"No, I just felt like dressing nice today," Steve deflects, looking down at his plate.

"Is it for a girl?" Bruce asks with a hint of a grin in his tone.

"No," Steve gushes and, technically, he's telling the truth.

The bacon was slightly burnt but not entirely inedible and the pancakes were falling apart but Steve admired Bruce effort nonetheless. Bruce sets down a half full glass next to Steve's plate and pulls a chair up adjacent to his step son. The older man smiles subtly when Steve starts to eat. He hasn't done this for Steve in such a long time and Bruce has to wonder why he ever stopped.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Steve asks when he sees Bruce without a plate of his own.

"I'm not hungry," Bruce assures, reaching out to run his knuckles over the corner of Steve's black eye.

Steve doesn't flinch at the touch but it still feels foreign to him, like Bruce has never touched him affectionately before. Bruce's expression was muddled with emotion as regret bled into long forgotten paternal instincts. Bruce looked so painfully happy at the sight of Steve eating a breakfast he prepared just for him, verging on the notion to cry. But he didn't.

They sat in silence like this, with Bruce stroking Steve's cheek or fixing stray strands of hair, until Steve was finished. Steve couldn't tell you why Bruce was acting so strange but maybe it had something to do with last night. Maybe Steve had scared something out of Bruce and it was now making him act more paternal than usual. It almost made Steve feel guilty for worrying his step father.

"You can tell me anything," Bruce whispers, suppressing his emotions long enough to get it out. "You know that right?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Steve says, looking down at his empty plate out of guilt.

Bruce just stares at him, looking through Steve as if he's trying to find something that would not be seen with the naked eye. Bruce hasn't been the best paternal figure as of late and he feels like Steve is finally growing up without him. He feels like he has to make up for lost time. Bruce may not be his biological father, but he could still be his dad.

"You look really handsome. I hope your crush is worth it," Bruce says tenderly, making Steve blush subtly. He doesn't need x-ray vision to see through Steve's façade "Now get going before you're late for school."

"Thank you, Bruce," Steve says with a shy smile as he gets up and grabs his bag. He stands at the edge of the kitchen with his hand on the doorknob, turning sideways to look at Bruce. "You should make breakfast more often."

It makes Bruce smile and it leaves Steve with a warm feeling as he exits out onto the streets of Brooklyn. There's a slight spring in Steve's step as he makes his way to school. The people and places around him were being blocked out by the constant reminder of seeing Bucky after school. The thought of the punk alone was enough to make his heart flutter.

He made it to school just before the bell rang. Steve was hoping to catch up with Tony before class started but he was probably already sprinting to his class, seeing as how Tony was always fashionably late. Steve himself was running rather late because he had slipped into a daydream on his way to school.

Steve ducked into first period just in the nick of time and collapsed into his chair as if he were exhausted. A kid who sits next to him, Justin-something-or-other, scoffs and makes a snotty remark towards Steve's black eye but he simply shrugs it off. He's so used to belittlement that he's practically impervious to it by now.

"Nice tie, loser," the Justin kid whispers towards him, leaning over slightly so Steve can hear him. "Did your mommy pick it out for you? Oh, wait... You don't have a mommy, do you?"

"Mr. Hammer, can you please refrain from opening your loud mouth for once," Mr. Stark interjects swiftly before Steve can come back with a response.

"To be continued, loser," Justin says in a hushed tone before turning back to his textbook.

Mr. Stark casts a gaze over at Steve, noticing the faint tremble in his bottom lip and sympathizing with the young man before returning back to the lesson. Mr. Stark was always looking after Steve when Tony or Bruce couldn't and he felt like Steve was a surrogate kid he just inherited when Steve's mother died. It was a tender subject for Steve that he hardly ever talked about. He didn't want to even think about it.

Steve made through the lesson without anymore comments from Justin but he could sense the boy glaring at him. Steve just shut him out, opting to daydream about Bucky instead and what their date was going to be like if it was, in fact, a date. Steve was certainly giddy about it either way. He longed to have Bucky flirt with him and treat him like a human being.

His classes passed by slow, too slow if you asked Steve, and doodling in his notebook didn't help to kill time. For once Steve wasn't concerned with his assignments or the day's lessons, because all he could think about was ratty, unkempt hair and a to die for smile wrapped in a leather jacket and a studded belt.

It wasn't until one of his teachers snapped him out of his reverie did he realize he'd been drawing amatuer sketches of Bucky adorned in hearts. Steve flushed visibly and curled an arm around his notebook, hoping to God that none of the kids around him were paying attention to what he was drawing.

Last thing Steve needed was everyone knowing he was a homosexual. Some people are understanding, like Tony, but even more are obtuse about the idea, like Gilmore Hodge. Steve was never one to be ashamed, but now was not the time nor place to come out. So, instead, he hides in plain sight like he has for the past six years and hopes no one is keen enough to see through him.

** *~*~*~*~* **

"So, how was the show last night?" Tony asks him at lunch time.

"You would know if you had been there," Steve says with a condescending tone, but it's basically just banter between friends. "Thanks for flaking on me, jerk."

"I was getting ready to sneak out last night but my dad caught me. What do you want me to say?" Tony whines, picking at his less than savory lunch. "Did you at least enjoy it?"

"It was something else," Steve says, smiling faintly. He looks up at Tony, staring at him until they meet gazes. "You know, it's probably good that you didn't show up."

"Oh? Why's that?" Tony snorts indignantly.

Tony chucks a grape at the back of someone's head, making it bounce off with a tiny _thump_. The kid Tony beamed with a grape rubs the back of his head and throws his rebuttal back and misses. 

"I kind of met someone last night."

Steve bites his bottom lip and he blushes because he knows any second now Tony is going to be bombarding him with questions. Who is he? What does he look like? Does he go to this school? And Steve hopes Tony doesn't blab loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to hear.

"Get out!" Tony practically shouts, drawing all eyes on them. Tony closes his mouth and waits for the unwanted attention to dissipate. He lulls his voice to a mumble. "You have to give me all the details."

"There's nothing to tell," Steve brushes off lamely, turning a light shade of pink. "I met him at the show last night and we hung out for a little bit."

"Hanging out is not nothing. Did you go to his place? What's his name? Did you guys kiss?"

"Slow down!" Steve whispers harshly, leaning across the table and checking around them cautiously. "His name is Bucky and he's twenty-three. That's all you need to know."

"Oh my god, you _did_ kiss him!" Tony says, hopping up and down on the bench seat of the table.

"Shut up you idiot!"

But he didn't mean it. Honestly, it tickled Steve to see Tony so excited for him. It almost made Steve feel normal, like everyone else.

"Okay, okay, okay," Tony gushes, going back to his food. He spares a glance across the table and notices Steve is without a tray. "You're not eating?"

"No. I sort of have a date after school. I don't want to get full," Steve explains, watching Tony throw even more of his food aside.

"Oh yeah, you'd be lucky enough to get one bite of this crap," Tony scoffs. He looks from Steve's hair to his shirt and tie, grinning slightly. "Is that why you look so sharp?"

"I'm not trying too hard, am I?" Steve asks worried, getting serious now. He needed a second opinion.

Tony looks up at his best friend, returning that seriousness that deserves the utmost respect. He smiles warmly, and places a hand over Steve's shaking hand.

"You're a knockout," Tony says with a wink and click of his teeth.

Steve offers a bashful smile as Tony slips his hand away. Hearing it from his stepfather was one thing, but having Tony back it up was even more reassuring.

"Wicked shiner, by the way," Tony comments without looking up. Steve brushes his fingertips over his left eye subconsciously. "I could tell my dad about Hodge and maybe he can put in a word with Principal Fury."

"Thanks, but somebody kind of already taught him a lesson."

Steve gestures over at an adjacent table with a jerk of his head and Tony follows it with little subtlety. He openly gawks at the table Justin and Gilmore are sitting at. He has a split lip, a black eye, and a bruise the size of Manhattan across his cheek. Tony busts out laughing but luckily no one pays him much attention this time.

"I'm assuming your Prince Charming did that little number on him," Tony says more than asks. "He's a true hero to the revolution."

"Oh yeah... And it was _the_ single hottest display of heroism I've ever seen," Steve admits, biting the inside of his cheek as he spares a glance over at Gilmore.

"Well, damn," Tony exhales. "I think I'm starting to fall in love with this Bucky guy."

"You're straight," Steve points out blatantly.

"I am heteroflexible, my friend."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I'm straight, but shit happens," Tony counters.

"Too bad. I saw him first, Stark," Steve warns, pointing a finger at his friend.

"Fair play, Rogers. Fair play."

** *~*~*~*~* **

After lunch time Steve still had three classes to get through before he would see Bucky. Instead of feeling giddy, Steve was suddenly feel anxious more than anything and the dread started to set in the pit of his stomach. The thought of going on a date with Bucky seemed good in theory, but when applied to actual life Steve felt terrified.

What if this was a mistake after all? Maybe he should've just quit while he was ahead and spared himself the eventual embarrassment and disappointment. No, that was just his nerves talking. Everything was going to be perfectly fine and maybe, if Steve was lucky enough, Bucky will want to go on a second date. Oh, Steve hoped so and he hasn't even been on one date yet.

Bucky had roused certain feelings inside him and it left Steve swooning with an ache in his chest. Steve usually doesn't like to sound sappy but it almost felt like love at first sight. It was ridiculous, sure, but that's just the way it felt to Steve. There was no getting around it. He just couldn't explain it.

It was Steve's first real love and perhaps his mind was just a tangled mess, but he knew he couldn't let this opportunity pass. Stuff like this doesn't happen everyday and he'd be a fool if he were to wuss out now. After all, where would Steve be if Bruce had never proposed to his mother? Steve needed to take a chance. A leap of faith.

His last periods suddenly went by so fast that the final bell made him jump a little. He shuffled out into the hallway with a mob of other kids, kind of like last night, walking on numb feet that carried him like a dream. Steve felt himself floating down the halls with a surreal sense of realization as the minutes ticked down.

Steve's palms were clammy and his skin was hot from adrenaline, feeling pink from head to toe as his body was encompassed in a flush. He really must have looked like a criminal walking out of the entrance of his school. Like he'd just gotten away with murder and the police were closing in on him. Steve can't remember the last time he was this nervous. He felt as if he'd up chuck if he so much as breathed.

Once he was out of the cramped hallways and the crowd dispersed, Steve was able to breath again. He blindly felt for his inhaler and pulled it out of his pocket, sucking in his medicine to calm his rattled nerves. Steve exhaled slowly, relishing in the way it felt to have clear lungs once again.

He scanned the courtyard, looking for that familiar spiked head, but came up empty a few times. Steve worried for a moment that Bucky wasn't going to show up after all and that he'd flake on Steve like Tony had last night. His shoulders slumped in defeat at the idea of being lead on and it tore at his heart. He had been so excited that it made him physically ill.

Steve was ready to cut his losses like last night before the music had lulled him into it's graces and it made Steve pause. No, he shouldn't leave just yet. If he had left prematurely last night he wouldn't have met Bucky and Steve wouldn't be standing here. He'd be on his way home worrying over homework. Just a few more minutes. Bucky would show.

There was a light tap on his shoulder and he cringed, thinking it was going to Gilmore or Justin coming to settle the score but it wasn't. When Steve turned around he was greeted by the deadliest grin he's ever seen and bed head that framed such a beautiful disaster that could only be contained in torn cloth and leather.

It was a disaster simply entitled: Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heteroflexible reference from Were The World Mine (which is an excellent movie).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a good two months since I updated, so here's a boring chapter!

Bucky is standing at the front gate of the school, leaning against a stone wall. He looks the same as last night though he looks substantially more well-rested and clean. Steve's face lights up when his eyes come to rest on Bucky, hoping that his smile isn't too giddy or eager looking. Bucky pushes himself off of the wall and makes his way over to Steve, ignoring the curious side glances the other kids give him. Bucky only has eyes for Steve.

"Hey, tiger," Bucky greets with a cheeky grin. He notices Steve's amount of personal grooming and raises an eyebrow. Bucky reaches out and gently tugs on Steve's tie to test it's hold, making him blush. "I hope you didn't do all this just for me."

"It's a force of habit," Steve gushes, pulling his tie free from Bucky's loose grip to smooth it out. "I felt like looking nice."

"Well, you certainly have my attention," Bucky flirts, giving Steve a brief wink.

But Bucky does mean it. Steve looks quaint but otherwise handsome. His hair was prim and proper and not a single thread was out of place from head to toe. Bucky felt oddly guilty for not dressing as nice as Steve. Bucky knew Steve deserved the same respect and he hoped he wasn't putting him off before this even started.

Last night wasn't a very good first impression either, seeing as how Bucky hadn't been thinking clearly. First shooting up in front of someone as innocent and meek as Steve, then making overt advances on him prematurely, and now neglecting to fix himself up. Bucky was surprised that Steve wasn't giving him the boot now. If Bucky were in Steve's shoes he definitely would've kicked himself to the curb.

"Does your eye hurt?" Bucky inquires, brushing a thumb just along the discolored bruise under his left eye.

"It's fine. I've had a lot worse from people bigger than Gilmore Hodge," Steve dismisses as if it's nothing.

"You don't have to worry about people like him anymore, Stevie," Bucky tells him, placing on Steve's shoulder to pull him into his side. "Now you got me to protect you. Shall we?"

Steve chuckles with bashfulness, letting Bucky lead the way as well as hold him close in front of all the other kids. It makes Steve a little anxious to show this kind of affection in public, especially in front of people he has to go to school with, but Steve is willing to go the distance with Bucky. Even if that means being reprimanded by his peers.

People openly gawk at them as they walk down the streets of Brooklyn in such close proximity but Bucky doesn't seem to mind. Steve on the other hand is perhaps a little uneasy by the attention, but it's hard to let anything get to him when Bucky has an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Steve feels like he can endure any type harassment he might get just as long as he's in Bucky's embrace.

They make it two blocks down the road before the people around them really start catching wind as to what they are. Steve can see men across the street giving them disapproving looks as well as a few ladies whispering amongst themselves, occasionally looking over at him and Bucky. Bucky lets his arm drop from Steve's shoulders, only to wrap it around his thin waist, noting the shock and disgust he sees in the other people's eyes at this far more intimate gesture.

It's hard to see how Bucky can be so impervious to the silent ridicule in people's eyes and Steve knows Bucky is aware of the stares they're rousing in their wake. Steve grabs onto the side of Bucky's leather jacket, holding onto him more out of habit than anything else. Whenever Steve was nervous as a child he'd hold onto his mother's hand.

"Everyone's staring at us," Steve whispers, leaning into Bucky further. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"No, but it's so much more fun," Bucky tells him. Steve stiffens visibly and Bucky tightens his arm around the shorter man. "Listen, people are going to stare a lot. The trick is to just own it and not care what they think. But if some jerk tries to start something, just hold onto me. Okay?"

Steve nods, going so far as to wrap an arm around Bucky's waist as well while clinging to his jacket. The danger of showing displays of affection out in public with another man made Steve nervous. Steve knew what happened to people like him on the streets, but luckily no one had the minerals to actually approach them with threats of violence, or give them a razzing for that matter.

Despite the risk Bucky was willing to take to make this feel more like date, Steve felt relatively safe with the man. Bucky had a sharp tongue and he was quick on his toes, ensuring that Steve needn't feel worried with being who he is in public. It was rather nice actually to feel somewhat normal, even when the people around them whispered of hate and unsavory slurs.

They eventually came across a diner just a few more blocks down the road. It was diner Steve hadn't been to before despite living in the same general neighborhood. Then again, ever since his mother died Steve hardly went out anymore to stay at home with Bruce and help pick up the pieces. The only time Steve went anywhere is if Tony gave him a ring.

Bucky let go of Steve briefly so he could jog ahead and hold the door open for Steve like a gentlemen. Steve would be lying if he said he didn't flush just a little as he slid past Bucky with a shy smile. Bucky may not look like the healthiest or most trustworthy person, but under all that ratty hair and disorganized clothing lies a true gentlemen.

There weren't too many people dining even though it was midday. Bucky places his hand at the small of Steve's back, guiding him to a booth for them to sit at away from the other patrons. It wasn't out of shame so much as wanting privacy. Steve slides into the booth half expecting Bucky to sidle up next to him, but Bucky takes his place across from Steve instead.

Steve places his hands on the tabletop and Bucky reaches a hand across the surface to hold one tenderly.

"I'm glad you agreed to come out with me," Bucky rejoices, running his thumb over Steve's knuckles.

Steve looks down, noticing that Bucky's knuckles were still badly bruised from the beating he gave Hodge last night. An elderly waitress wearing the name tag _Doris_ comes around and gives them a couple of menus to look through, smiling just a little as they let go of each other's hands.

"What can I get you boys to drink?" She asks with a friendly smile.

"I would like a coke," Bucky says, returning the smile.

"Can I get a vanilla milkshake?" Steve asks Bucky with puppy eyes.

"Knock yourself out, tiger," Bucky teases, clicking his teeth as he winks.

The waitress, Doris, looks between the two boys with a fond expression, admiring the unabashed carefree attitude.

"I'd like vanilla milkshake, ma'am," Steve says politely.

"I'll be right back to take your orders shortly," Doris informs, taking her leave.

They take this as their cue to start taking a look through the menu. Most of it is standard, run of the mill dishes served at various diners all across Brooklyn with the except of a few specialties. Steve scans the menu, glancing up occasionally to see that Bucky is already watching him over the top of his menu.

"See anything you like?" Bucky inquires, grinning slyly at Steve.

"Perhaps..." Steve returns with a coy smile.

The waitress comes back a few minutes later with their beverages, setting them down in front of them before pulling out a pen and notepad. She quickly jots down their orders, waiting patiently even as Steve hesitates on what he wants. Doris beams at them once again, telling them the same thing as before as she disappears towards the kitchen.

Steve wraps his hands around the tall cold glass filled to the brim with vanilla ice cream and sucks on the straw in long pulls, relishing in the sweet tingle it leaves on his taste buds. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat, almost like a groan, and closes his eyes in ecstasy. Bucky makes an odd face at Steve, smiling vaguely at his reaction.

"Damn, now I want one," Bucky chuckles, taking a sip from his own drink.

"Sorry, it's just been so long since I had one of these," Steve reveals. "My step-dad used to take me to get these all the time."

"Why did he stop?" Bucky inquires.

"Just... reasons," Steve replies vaguely, looking down at the creamy white beverage. "Things that are kind of tough to talk about right now. I want to tell you someday, but it's hard..."

"It's okay. I understand what you're trying to say," Bucky reassures, sympathizing with Steve. "You don't have to tell me everything on the first date. We have plenty of time to get to that later."

"So there's going to be a next time?" Steve asks, chewing on his straw tediously.

"If you want there to be," Bucky responds, stirring the ice in his glass as he smiles hopefully at Steve.

"Here you are, gentlemen," Doris announces as she sets down their respective orders. "Cheeseburger for the little fella and the chicken salad sandwich with a side order of fries for his date. You two sweethearts enjoy yourselves now."

"Thank you, ma'am," Steve gushes with appreciation, earning him an affectionate pat on his shoulder. Doris walks away to deal with other customers and Steve turns to Bucky. "She was really nice. I didn't expect an old timer like her to be so compassionate."

"Not everyone hates people like us, Stevie. That's why you should always be yourself no matter what," Bucky encourages. He looks down at Steve's plate, smirking to himself. "Cheeseburger? You're an all American boy, aren't you?"

"Call me old-fashioned," Steve brushes off, grinning bashfully.

"Are you sure you'll be able to fit that big thing in your mouth?" Bucky inquires comically. Bucky registers what he's just said and immediately back pedals. "That came out sounding way dirtier than I intended."

Steve instantly pales and he can feel his face heat up as well as the tips of his ears. Bucky's comment wasn't meant to be even remotely sexual but it ended up sounding that way and Steve was oddly giddy about the idea. A distinct image flits through his mind and he isn't able to shake it for a few moments.

Bucky opts to stuff his sandwich in his face before he says something stupid again and Steve follows suit, only to be conscious of the bites he's taking. They sit there in silence, eating their food with little reserved bites and occasionally taking a drink. Bucky's hand touches Steve's when they reach for the fries but they don't pull away awkwardly. The graze of skin on skin is more than welcome.

"So... You mentioned you had a step-dad," Bucky begins, changing the subject. "What's he like?"

"Bruce is a good man. He's always been there for me ever since my dad left," Steve says, swallowing his food. "We're not exactly _well off_ but he's a hard worker. He's everything I wish I could be."

"Sounds nice," Bucky comments distantly, letting his stoic resolve drop just slightly with a tinge of envy. "Does he know about you?"

"No, I haven't told him. I want to, I really do, but it's just hard," Steve professes, feeling perhaps a little guilty of the fact. Bruce hardly knows the real him.

"It certainly is," Bucky agrees, huffing belatedly at how true the statement actually is. "I told my parents when I was your age."

"How did they take it? If you don't mind me asking, that is," Steve adds, intrigued.

"They didn't understand it. I think my dad tried to, but my mom was so dead set on _curing_ me that even he eventually started to believe I was sick. Like I had caught the fucking flu or something," Bucky chuckles mirthlessly, shaking his head ruefully at the memory.

"What happened?" Steve implores, worry deviating his otherwise subtle expression.

"My mom tried getting professional help to fix me, even though there was nothing wrong with me," Bucky says, picking at his food. "She told me it was the only way I could continue to live under her roof, so I left. And I never looked back since."

"Do you ever regret it? Telling them? Or running away?" Steve asks, wanting to know everything that could potentially happen to him if he tells Bruce.

"Surprisingly, no. I don't regret it at all," Bucky admits, feeling a weight lift off of his chest. "The only thing I regret is not having more enlightened parents. If they could just see me for who I am... That would be enough."

Steve's shoulders slump down marginally and he hangs his head. Bucky brushes a hand over Steve's clenched fist softly, eliciting compassion.

"Don't worry, tiger. Just remember what I said earlier, okay?" Bucky enthuses with a murmur, staring deeply into his sad puppy eyes. "Not everyone is obtuse like my parents and if Bruce is anything like the man you say he is, then you have _nothing_ to be afraid of."

This touches Steve in a way he never thought possible. No one has ever given him advice about dealing with his sexuality. To be fair, Tony was the only person who knew but his best friend wasn't exactly articulate with his words. Besides, Bucky knew what Steve was going through better than anyone else because Bucky was just like him.

Steve goes through the rest of his date with Bucky with a sense of confidence, not a tremendous amount but enough to reassure him. Bucky even lightens the mood with jokes and using anecdotes about past gigs that had crashed and burned abysmally. How him and his band were booed off stage during their first gig or how he trashed his first bass beating up some jerk who threw a beer bottle at him.

Even though some of the stories were violent at times there was still an underlying sense of frankness and humor to it. Steve gradually found himself falling in love with Bucky's modesty as well as his unique view of the world. Steve sat in awe of Bucky's presence, captivated by the way his mouth formed around words or how his face would shift subtly at the faintest of memories.

There was something truly beautiful lying just underneath Bucky's sickly pale exterior and Steve knew if he dug down deep enough there would be a heart of gold. But there was also an overwhelming sense of heartache and instability about Bucky's life that worried Steve. He didn't didn't know which one frightened him more.

Not after long the sun had started to set as they found themselves sitting there for a few hours just talking. The time only really began to set in when Doris came out to tell Bucky and Steve that they were about to prepare for the dinner crowd and that they had to leave shortly. Steve was more than a little put out by this revelation and reluctantly followed along with the request.

Bucky picked up the check and even left a reasonable tip just for the lovely waitress who showed them the respect they deserved. Steve lets Bucky take him by his hand without so much as a second thought this time as they leave the diner with an extra spring in their step.

They walk in comfortable silence as they near Steve's street, but Bucky feels a nagging urge at the back of his mind that won't leave him be. There's something Bucky been wanting to say to Steve all day and he has yet to voice his true feelings on the matter. Before Bucky can stop himself, he's pulling Steve into the nearest alley for privacy.

"What's wrong?" Steve inquires skeptically when Bucky pins him to a brick wall by his shoulders.

"Listen, I know I fucked up last night and I wasn't thinking when I took advantage of you. I shouldn't have exposed you to that part of my life either. It just gets so hard to control certain urges sometimes, especially when it becomes a necessity," Bucky rambles, clinging onto Steve to get his point across. Bucky takes a deep sigh and tries to start over. "What I'm trying to say is that I want to do this right for once. There's just something about you that makes me take a longer look at my life, you know?"

Steve stares up at Bucky with wide eyes, perplexed by this sudden wave of guilt Bucky had been carrying since their brief interlude last night. Bucky was ashamed for shooting himself up with drugs in front of Steve as well as snogging him without permission. Steve was well aware that he reciprocated Bucky's advances, but Bucky didn't see it as consensual. Thus, the confession and apology.

"That being said, I would really like to kiss you now," Bucky requests, bearing himself to Steve by asking for permission this time. "I'll totally understand if you say no."

"Kiss me," Steve orders in a whisper, not breaking eye contact.

They stand there staring at each other for the longest moment, waiting for someone to make the first move. The tension between them is overpowering and Bucky tries his best not to cross the line too much. He eases up on the grip on Steve's shoulders and goes to cup the shorter man's face in his rough hands. Bucky angles Steve's jaw up fractionally and pauses only for a second before leaning forward slowly.

Bucky captures Steve's lips with his in an ardent kiss, taking the blonde's breath away with everything he's got. Steve inches up on the tips of his toes to level with Bucky more evenly, deepening the passionate display of intimacy. Bucky is pouring every bit of emotion into the way he moves his lips against Steve's, coaxing them to part just a little.

Steve clings to the front of Bucky's muscle shirt as he lets himself get wooed into a state of compliance. Their kisses are open mouthed but not so much to the point that they're tongues are touching. Bucky gently nips on Steve's plush lower lip and strokes his cheekbones with the pads of his thumbd delicately, being mindful of the bruise around his eye.

They part breathlessly before they can properly be carried away as well as for air, panting at the intensity of the moment. Bucky holds Steve's face just a few second longer so he can prop their foreheads against one another in a chaste half-embrace before pulling away altogether.

"Lets get you home now," Bucky proclaims, being a better man than he was last night. But damn did he want to kiss Steve some more.

Steve concurs with a dazed nod, following Bucky out of the alley and back onto the main street so he can lead the way home. They make it to Steve's place not five minutes later and Steve knows that he's still thoroughly flushed from their brief moment of passion in the alley. Steve walks up the stoop and turns around expectantly, knowing that this was the part where they say goodbye to each other.

"I hope you had a good time," Bucky says at the base of the stoop, staring down at the steps as one of his booted feet kicks one idly. "I'm usually not this sappy when it comes to dating."

"I like sappy," Steve reassures, hoping to encourage the idea.

"You really are old-fashioned aren't you?" Bucky giggles, loving how perpetually innocent Steve is.

"I'm just a firm believer in romance, that's all," Steve clarifies with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, you certainly made a believer out of me," Bucky informs, beaming warmly up at Steve.

Bucky climbs up the steps and embraces Steve in a warm hug, squeezing tight enough to silently tell Steve that he doesn't want to let him go just yet. But he has to.

"I'll see you tomorrow, tiger," Bucky whispers in Steve's ear, taking a chance by kissing him on the cheek.

There's a distinct change in Steve's demeanor that makes him feel like he's floating and he basks in the glow of it. Bucky lets him go, giving one last smile before trotting down the steps and waving goodbye. Steve watches Bucky depart long after he is gone and swoons at the memory of how it felt to kiss him.

Steve stands there daydreaming, unaware that Bruce had been watching through the window.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is kinda boring and slow. I wanted to do more with Bruce but I think I failed miserably with that... Oops! I'm hoping to get my mojo back for next chapter. I'm just starting to get cagey since it's the end of the year, so I'm sorry if this isn't up to par with the other chapters. I tried!

Steve was on cloud nine.

He watches Bucky retreat down the street the same way they came until he disappears from sight completely. Steve had such a good time with Bucky that he's starting to feel a tinge of sadness set in even though it's only been a few minutes. Maybe it's silly but Steve misses him already. Steve sighs much to his disdain and unlocks the front door, promptly shutting it behind him.

Despite the overwhelming realization that he has to wait a _whole_ day to see Bucky again, Steve finds himself leaning against the door for support because he's so goddamn giddy from this afternoon. There were many things about Bucky that got Steve's heart pounding uncontrollably. Not only was Bucky handsome in a pale and sickly kind of way, but he was so outspoken and articulate and knowledgeable in his struggles with acceptance.

Bucky has experience and that makes Steve want him even more. His heart is battered with abandonment from his parents and his body is hardened by drug abuse. These things are frighteningly beautiful to Steve in the sense that Bucky is proof that you can survive any amount of suffering and pull through with an optimistic smirk. Steve isn't about to follow in Bucky's image, but he truly admires Bucky's flaws in a way.

The drug abuse, however, does bring up some discomfort for Steve, seeing as how he cares about Bucky and what he puts into his body. Steve doesn't know whether Bucky is an addict or not, but he seemed pretty lucid today. Steve just hopes it's not a casual thing. Either way, Bucky had apologized for it, making a promise to Steve to be better than that. Steve can only pray that Bucky means it.

Steve is taken out of his musings when he hears Bruce milling around in the kitchen and turning on the faucet. Steve makes his way through the threshold and stands in the archway, watching Bruce's elbows bend and bow as he washes the dishes. Steve doesn't say anything for the longest time and just stares at Bruce's back, noticing the way his shoulders slump down forlornly from exhaustion.

There's a subtle form of depression hanging heavily around the kitchen, he can sense it in the way Bruce's arms sag, and Steve wonders if his stepfather is thinking about his mother. Bruce hasn't mentioned her in a long time, so Steve wouldn't be surprised if the older man was keeping it all bottled up. Steve walks further into the kitchen and opens up the fridge to grab a pop, making his presence known to Bruce.

"Hey, kiddo. How was school?" Bruce greets, straightening up slightly.

"It was alright," Steve replies noncommittally, popping the cap off of the glass bottle. "How was work?"

"The same, I suppose," Bruce shrugs with brief smile, continuing to scrub the dishes.

Maybe there's a sadness to the way Bruce says this but Steve doesn't press the subject further. If Bruce wants to talk about his day in great detail he would've done so, besides Steve always felt guilty for prying into Bruce's work. Steve feels compelled to say _something_ though. Anything to connect with his stepfather if only for a brief moment.

"I could wash those if you want me to," Steve offers, taking on a timid tone when Bruce regards him with a quick glance.

"It's fine," Bruce dismisses, giving Steve a reassuring smile that is anything but.

There's a substantial amount of dirty dishes in the sink that will take ages to do and it starts to click in Steve's head. Bruce is just trying to keep himself busy so he doesn't have to face his feelings, Steve realizes. Instead of make it a big deal, Steve backs off a little bit to give his stepfather some space.

"Okay," Steve concedes, frowning a little at Bruce's standoffish dismissal.

Steve stands there for a few seconds longer, contemplating whether he should say something more or not, before taking his leave from the kitchen altogether. He clutches his bottle of pop to his chest and makes his way down the hall towards his room, wondering vaguely why Bruce's mood had changed from this morning. Maybe something bad happened at work? This thought eludes Steve when the landline starts to ring in his room.

"I got it!" Steve calls out, setting his bottle down on his nightstand and sitting on his bed before answering. "Hello?"

"Hey lover boy, how was your date?" Tony greets, trying to stifle an amused grin that bleeds into his voice.

"It was amazing, Tony. I wish you could've seen him," Steve gushes with elation, hugging the phone with his neck for a moment. "He was so sweet and we held hands. In public! Everyone stared at us and I was so nervous, but it was totally worth it."

"Sounds like a real charmer," Tony says, though his voice sounds disinterested. "So, did you go all the way?"

"That's none of your business," Steve squawks in a harsh whisper, cupping the receiver for fear that he might be heard.

"How does that even work?" Tony goes on to say, ignoring Steve's flustered reply. "I mean, is he supposed to put his dick in your--"

"Shut up!" Steve yelps into the receiver, blushing profusely and heating up at the thought of it. "Don't be disgusting!"

" _That's_ disgusting? Isn't that _your_ preference?" Tony argues, laughing hysterically on the other end. "I hate to break it to you, Rogers, but I'm pretty sure that's what men do with each other."

"There's a difference between talking about it and actually doing it," Steve rebukes, embarrassed by Tony using such vulgar terms.

Steve was a little green around the ears and always felt a tinge of shame whenever he heard or used a curse word or something along those lines. Not only that, but Steve didn't like the idea of kiss and tell. Even if he had sex with Bucky, Steve wouldn't tell Tony. At least not right away. The eventuality was ultimately inescapable as far as Steve was concerned. Tony had a knack for squeezing out information.

"So _did_ you guys do it?" Tony inquires with a tiny inflection.

"I don't put out on the first date like you, Tony," Steve remarks, grinning madly as he holds in a laugh. "I have more self respect than that."

"Doesn't mean you weren't thinking about it," Tony teases, hearing a long pause on Steve's side of things.

"It really hadn't occurred to me," Steve fibs, hoping his voice doesn't crack.

In fact, Steve had thought about it. When Bucky had made the comment of fitting something big in his mouth, Steve was unable to tune out the dirty images that flooded his head. Bucky hadn't meant to sound vulgar but a part of Steve's mind was more filthy than a white filly wallowing around in a mud patch and automatically interpreted it as such.

"You, sir, are a horrible liar," Tony proclaims.

"Look, I gotta go," Steve stammers out, wanting to end this call as soon as possible. "I have homework to do."

"Uh-huh... _Sure_..." Tony drags on with little belief. "Talk to you later, lover boy."

Steve hangs up the phone, feeling a tad bit flushed like all the blood has drained from his face. Tony certainly has a way with getting under his skin and not in the best of ways either. It seemed him and Bucky had a knack for making him blush and die of embarrassment on the spot whether it was in person or not.

Steve jumps up off of his bed and walks over towards his record player, unsheathing Bucky's Ramones record before putting it on and lowering the needle gently. _Blitzkrieg Bop_ starts up with it's fast-paced guitar riff and Steve lets himself get pulled into the mesmerizing drum beat and lyrics. He reaches into his nightstand drawer and pulls out his sketchbook, moving into a laying position on his stomach against his blankets.

He pulls out a pencil and starts to draw anything that pops into his mind. His sketches vary from amatuer doodles to bold portraits of the Ramones cover, drawing each member in great detail as well as the proper shading. Steve muses for a second that this would be the perfect gift to give Bucky for taking him out and this makes a big dumb smile spread across his face.

Sometimes Steve doesn't think much about his art but he knows Bucky would like it regardless if he's good or bad. Bucky was that kind of person who appreciated anything that came from the heart and took effort to make. Steve supposes that's what he loves the most about Bucky and as this thought sinks further into his mind, Steve's pencil shifts with his subtle mood change.

Without even realizing it, Steve starts to draw Bucky from the memory of how he looked earlier in the dinner as _I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend_ fills the space around him. He hardly notices how much his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Steve takes his time in mapping out Bucky's jaw line and lips carefully, remembering exactly how it felt to kiss him as he melted in his arms strong arms.

Steve hums along to the melody of the song as he gets lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming like he had in school earlier today but more vividly. He can imagine Bucky milling around his room, studying the various things he has tacked up on his wall and the books lying around haphazardly. Surely, Bucky would find something of similar interest and comment on it.

Maybe Bucky stumbles across an old stuffed animal Steve forgets to hide and teases him about it. Perhaps Steve would try and take it away from Bucky to spare himself the embarrassment and Bucky would _accidentally_ topple over so that he lands perfectly over Steve on the bed. They might wrestle until they're both chuckling breathlessly, only to have the laughter die down from how close they are.

Bucky would stare down into Steve's eyes, bending down to make the contact more intimate and Bucky would kiss him. Bucky's hands would drift up under Steve's shirt to caress him with calloused palms hardened by extensive bass playing and he would take Steve's breath away one slow and sensual kiss at a time. He would be so gentle and tender that Steve will be lulled into a state of compliance as Bucky slowly undresses him.

The lead on Steve's pencil snaps when he hears Bruce calling him from the other room, requesting his presence with casual haste. Steve slams his sketchbook shut and slips it underneath his pillow before he sits up to straighten himself out. Steve can't begin to image how flushed he must look now. He's just glad he didn't go further with his daydream.

Steve pushes off of his bed and leaves his room to walk down the hallway. He pokes his head into the kitchen to see Bruce finishing up the dishes. He looks different somehow, not like he had just a few moments ago and there was an underlying sense of curiosity about him.

"Sir?" Steve says, making himself known and prompting Bruce to turn around marginally.

He steps into the kitchen, keeping his distance from the table but standing obediently so Bruce knows he has his undivided attention. For some reason Steve thinks he's in trouble, nervous to think that he's able to get scolded. Perhaps Steve is just paranoid about hugging Bucky and letting him kiss him on the cheek on his stoop.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks meekly, stuffing his hands into his pockets out of habit.

"I want to know how your day went," Bruce announces over his shoulder, working hard to scrub away the grime of old food.

"It was alright, like I said," Steve says, but Bruce chuckles softly at this.

"I meant after school. You were late coming home, so I assumed you must have been doing something fun," Bruce implies, delving deeper into Steve's recreational life.

"Well, I went out to lunch with a new friend I made," Steve offers, finding Bruce's questions and observations odd.

"Oh, yeah? This friend of yours wouldn't happen to be a boy, would he?" Bruce inquires curiously, making conversation.

"Why do you say that?" Steve asks anxiously and he can feel his pulse slow down to a low hum in his ears.

"I saw you hugging him outside the window earlier," Bruce clarifies. "Is there something you want to tell me, Steve?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, sir," Steve says nervously, swallowing down the unsteady feeling that Bruce _knows_.

Bruce finishes up what he's doing and sets the final plate in the dish rack, turning off the faucet and drying his hands before turning to face Steve. Steve is fidgeting slightly as Bruce gazes at him with such scrutiny. _He knows,_ Steve panics internally. _He knows I'm gay and now he's going to disown me._

"That boy looks awfully old to be attending high school," Bruce elaborates. "My question is, how did you meet him in the first place? And don't say Tony introduced you two."

Steve honestly sighs with relief. For a second, he thought Bruce was implying something _else_. Steve figures he could tell Bruce the truth about the other night, seeing as how Bruce was smart enough to put the pieces together. Aside from noticing his stepson being gay, of course. Steve's shoulders slump down in defeat, knowing the jig was up.

"I met him at a show at the CBGB last night," Steve admits, hanging his head down out of guilt. "I wasn't at Tony's borrowing a record. I'm sorry that I lied, sir. It won't happen again."

"Well, at least you told me the truth," Bruce sighs, but there's an obvious hint of disappointment tainting his words. "Tell me more about this show you saw. I hear CBGB has all kinds of acts down there."

Steve furrows his eyebrows, perplexed by Bruce's sudden interest and lack of anger that he has _lied_ about where he was and who he was with. He hesitates for a moment, thinking that Bruce is messing with him but Steve stops to think that maybe his stepfather is genuinely curious about his life outside of home. Maybe he's reaching out. Steve walks timidly over to the table and sits across from Bruce with a small smile.

And so, Steve tells Bruce all about the show and how Tony was supposed to be there, having talked him into going in the first place. Bruce often reprimanded Tony as a bad role model and friend but he held off on scrutiny for the time being. Bruce's face was lighting up at every detail Steve shared about how the show made him feel and how Steve had never heard anything like it before.

Maybe Steve gets a little carried away and comes off as too excited, but Bruce hasn't asked him about his social in such a long time that it felt extremely overdue. He enjoyed talking to Bruce and he missed it for so long that his enthusiasm was getting the better of him. Bruce didn't seem to mind, though. He was just happy that Steve was sharing his life with him even if he couldn't do the same.

He even told Bruce all about Bucky, how he rescued Steve from a school bully and the kindness he naturally gave off despite his unusual appearance. Well, unusual in the sense that parents both feared and couldn't understand why someone would dress so peculiar and call it _punk_. Bruce seemed to make an effort though and trusted Steve when he said Bucky was a good man underneath all his ratty hair and leather jacket.

When Steve speaks about Bucky, Bruce doesn't know whether Steve is speaking in a strictly friendly tone or something more than that. It was clear to Bruce that Steve was taken with Bucky, if the soft blush and starry eyes were anything to go by. Bruce wants to question Steve's adoration for Bucky further, but for now he just listens quietly as Steve shares his afternoon with Bucky to him. Besides, the question Bruce wants to ask isn't important.

"This Bucky guy sounds like a good influence. Unlike that good for nothing Stark kid," Bruce chuckles, cracking a joke that makes Steve grin widely.

Bruce can't remember the last time Steve _actually, genuinely_ smiled since his mother died. The smile Steve usually wears is small, meek even, and barely registers as a true emotion. Bruce didn't know that all he had to do in order to bring a smile out on Steve's face was to talk to him. Bruce suddenly feels like a crummy parent. He hardly even knows Steve anymore.

"I'm really glad you're making friends, Steve. I worry about you a lot," Bruce says, taking on a softer and more serious tone as he reaches across the table to place a hand over Steve's.

Maybe there's a hint of jealousy in his tone, a part of Bruce that's afraid of seeing Steve move on and grow up, and it fills him with silent envy to think that Steve is using Bucky as a means for a substitute role model. Bruce knows this notion is paranoid and not true, but that's what it feels like. He's wasted so much time wallowing in his depression that he's missing out on what's important. _Steve_.

"I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you these past few months," Bruce goes onto say, apologizing for his absence in Steve's life. "There's just been so many things I've had to sort out."

"I know," Steve murmurs, dropping his gaze to where Bruce's big hand eclipsed his.

He looks up at his stepfather, making eye contact briefly to show him he understood. Steve often wonders what his real dad was like and if he would've taken the time to hear about his day. He wonders if his real dad would be so eager or forthcoming to bond with him or if he would've mourned the passing of Steve's mother. But Steve doesn't have to linger on that thought for long because it doesn't matter. By all rights, Bruce is his father now and Steve wouldn't change that for a second.

"I miss mom too," Steve murmurs and Bruce squeezes his hand a little tighter.

Bruce looks as if he's one word away from crying but he swallows it down before he can let it get the better of him. Steve has never seen Bruce cry, not even at his mother's funeral, and he often wonders which straw will ultimately break the camel's back, so to speak. He knows Bruce has an image to keep up with, to be strong and hold what's left of their family together, but for once Steve wishes Bruce would just let it out.

"Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to see a movie?" Bruce inquires, changing the subject.

"Really?" Steve asks, taken aback by Bruce's sudden spontaneity.

"Really, kiddo," Bruce clarifies, offering a warm light hearted grin that makes Steve beam. "Just got to make sure you get your homework done afterwards."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bruce chides, eyebrows arched into his hairline. "Go get ready."

Steve practically lights up like a Christmas tree, grinning from ear to ear as he pushes back his chair and hurriedly scampers off to change into something less formal. The last movie they saw in theatres was Tommy because his mother loved The Who and he had been gobsmacked by it. And now Bruce was going to take him to his first movie since her passing. He wastes no time in getting ready as Bruce makes his way over to the end table to pick up his wallet.

Bruce opens up the worn leather wallet, eyeing the picture of Steve and his mother he keeps in there briefly before rifling through his money. Or lack thereof. Bruce's wallet is nearly empty after paying bills and shopping for essentials this month and it disheartens him. Steve doesn't know about his problems as far as finances go and he doesn't have to. It's not like they're in trouble of getting evicted or anything like that, but Steve shouldn't know just how poor they are. That was another reason why Bruce hadn't made an effort to bond with Steve. It wasn't just dealing with the grief of losing someone they loved.

He stuffs his wallet into his back pocket just as Steve's coming down the hall, replacing his vague frown with a bright smile. Steve is pulling his coat on, wiggling his arms through the sleeves almost too eagerly to the point where he struggles for a moment. Bruce lends a hand and straightens it out for him, stopping Steve in his tracks only momentarily.

"You good to go?" Bruce asks, grabbing his coat off of the rack to pull in over his shoulders.

"Mmm-hmm," Steve nods with excitement, letting Bruce lead him out the front door with a hand at the small of his back. "What are we going to see?"

In that moment, Bruce wanted to give Steve the world because he deserved exactly that, but he knew he couldn't with his salary. But he could give him the next best thing which was an hour and a half of cinematic magic, hoping that it's enough to show how much Steve means to him.

" _Anything_ you want, kiddo," Bruce tells him ardently.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a couple of weeks since Steve's first date with Bucky and his reconciliation with his step father. Bruce paid attention to him more, spending time with him and talking to Steve in more depth, and Bucky started waiting by the school gates nearly everyday to take him out on more dates and just to talk to him.

Bucky often gushed about seeming creepy for waiting for him everyday, but Steve thought it was endearing. Especially after a long day of school with some of the lesser primates on the food chain. Namely, Gilmore Hodge and Justin Hammer.

They haven't been razzing him as much lately, seeing as how Bucky's been milling around a lot more, but there is still the occasional scuffles here and there. Despite Bucky giving Hodge a beating that first night Steve and Bucky met, Gilmore still had the nerve to rough Steve up during school hours where Bucky couldn't protect him. Steve wasn't resentful of it, however, because he knew Bucky had no control over what happened to him at school.

That doesn't necessarily mean Bucky let it slide though. Steve insisted that it was okay or that he didn't mind or even that it was just natural selection, but whenever Gilmore showed up to school with a busted lip or a fresh bruise, Steve didn't question it. He may scold Bucky a little out of moral obligation, but he secretly finds it extremely hot. Having someone defend his honor really got Steve's engine running, so to speak.

Speaking of which, during the past couple of weeks Bucky hasn't tried to pull anything as far as physical stuff is concerned. He stole kisses every once in a while in the privacy of an alleyway since Steve was nervous about public displays of affection, but he kept things above the belt. Sometimes, and Steve is ashamed to admit it, he wishes Bucky would go further and just touch him like the night they met.

Steve often thought about that night, wondering if Bucky was still using needles or not, and while he seemed lucid enough most of time it was hard to tell. Sometimes Bucky would break character a little bit, nothing too abnormal but definitely a little less than subtle for Steve to pick up on. It was the smallest things too, like a slight change in tone or how his demeanor would shift into recklessness.

One day they were out at a park, sitting close to one another. Bucky had his arm draped around Steve's shoulders to keep the smaller man warm. They didn't go there for any reason in particular, just to enjoy each other's company and watch the small creatures scurrying up trees. It was one of their more subtle, yet romantic, dates and Bucky even brought Steve some homemade hot cocoa he made special for his boyfriend. _Heh... Boyfriend._

Steve remembers clutching the thermos tighter just at the thought of calling Bucky his _boyfriend_. It left Steve with a bubbly warm feeling, and it wasn't just because of the cocoa either. It felt great being able to say words he thought he'd never use and it was nice feeling wanted for once.

Just sitting in tranquil silence in the park with Bucky's arm around him and hot cocoa was enough to make Steve feel like the luckiest person alive. When it all came down to it this was all Steve needed in life, if he were being honest with himself.

The whole afternoon had been perfect, Steve even let Bucky kiss him briefly on the lips on a whim and it pleased Bucky greatly, but the feel-good vibe slowly vanished when a bystander from across the way on the paralleling bench wouldn't stop staring at them. Steve pretended not to notice at first, but when he couldn't stop squirming underneath the scrutiny of the impolite man's gaze it caught Bucky's attention.

Bucky immediately picked up on Steve's uneasy fidgeting and turned his attention towards the middle aged man giving them dirty looks. Now normally Bucky would've kept his head raised and ignored the man to prove that he was the bigger man like he had so many times before, but for some _asinine_ reason Bucky decided to go off script and make a big public display out of it.

"Can we help you, sir?" Bucky asked in a rude tone, leaning forward slightly to get his attitude across.

"Bucky, please don't--" Steve began to gush, putting a hand to Bucky's chest to calm him, but it didn't work.

"No, I'm not just gonna let this go," Bucky told Steve before turning back towards the man. "What the hell are you staring at, huh? You never seen two guys kissing before, or are you just some sort of pervert that likes to watch young men?"

Steve blushed substantially when a few people in the general vicinity stop to rubberneck on the confrontation. Steve clutched at Bucky's jacket to get him to settle down some and that time Bucky relented, prompting the man on the bench to get up and storm off in disgust. It was odd behavior that warranted a deeper investigation on Steve's part, but he let it go.

Sometimes Steve wanted to ask Bucky about it, but he figured it wasn't any of his business and it could only result in Bucky being insulted or Steve being embarrassed or both. So he kept his mouth shut instead and kept his concerns to himself for the most part.

But aside from the small setbacks here and there, Steve has been fairly happy with Bucky as of late. He still hasn't met the _infamous_ Loki or seen Bucky's band play, but he's been told that he will sometime very soon when he cleans his apartment up a little and when they actually get a gig. Even Tony's been complaining about meeting Bucky, like he is right now.

"You and this Bucky guy seem pretty serious," Tony alludes, walking next to Steve down the hallway. "So, when am I gonna meet this boyfriend of yours?"

"When the time is right, okay?" Steve deflects, hugging his history book to his chest. "And could you please refrain from using the word _boyfriend_?"

"I thought you liked the ring of it," Tony mocks with a huffy pout, earning him an elbow nudge.

"I do, just not out in public where everyone can hear."

"Oh please, no one listens to us," Tony rebuffs, scamming on a few girls as they walk by. Oblivious to the worried crease on Steve's forehead. "You're quiet and timid and hardly anyone knows what I'm talking about half the time. We have the perfect camouflage. Besides, you shouldn't have to worry about what everyone else thinks about you anyway. Their opinion doesn't mean shit and it certainly doesn't reflect who you are as a human being, Steve. I'm sure Bucky's already told you that."

"It's not that simple, Tony. I don't have the same luxuries as you or any other straight person for that matter," Steve says, slouching his shoulders forward and bowing his head slightly. "You don't have to worry about what happens to you. What I am..." Steve sighs, bearing himself. "People just don't understand."

"Then make them understand by not giving a shit what they think about you. Hey," Tony enlightens as he stops Steve with a hand to his skinny bicep. "If you don't at least try, you'll never know. If you fail, fine. You can't change everyone. But if you succeed, just imagine all the weight that will be lifted from your shoulders."

"Tony..."

"Just think about it, alright?" Tony encourages, patting Steve on the back before he jogs away down the hall a ways. "I have to hurry home now because I'm grounded. I'll see ya later!"

Steve waves goodbye belatedly, corner of his mouth quirking to one side in a noncommittal half smile as he shakes his head. He understands where Tony is coming from and he knows he's right, it's just that Steve doesn't have the same confidence as Tony or Bucky. He doesn't know how to assert himself, let alone make his presence aware to the general population around him. Every time he spoke up it only got him into trouble. Multiple run ins with Gilmore Hodge was proof of that.

Instead of dwelling on it, however, Steve just continues to walk down the mostly vacant halls of his school as he makes his way to his locker to put his books away, all the while thinking of Bucky like he often did nowadays. There really wasn't a time during the day when he _wasn't_ thinking of Bucky. Steve couldn't explain it. They just clicked.

Steve slid his books into his locker, crumpling old tests in the process, and shuts the small door firmly before locking it once again. There's a smile on Steve's face as he realizes that Bucky is probably waiting for him out front right now. Steve goes to turn around and runs face first into Gilmore Hodge and his crony Justin Hammer who wears an unsightly smirk. The smile dissolves from Steve instantly.

Gilmore plants a hand on the lockers beside Steve's head and backs the smaller boy up against them so he can loom over Steve. Justin stands off to the side, snapping his bubble gum with his arms crossed over his chest, not really here for any reason in particular but more or less as _backup_. Because Gilmore is a coward like that.

"What's got you smiling all of a sudden?" Gilmore interrogates, trying to intimidate Steve by invading his personal space. "Little _Stephanie_ got a date with her _fag_ boyfriend?"

"Ha! _Stephanie_!" Justin cackles from beside Gilmore, backing up his friend's insults. "Good one, Gil!"

"Leave me alone, _Hodge_ ," Steve says with a slight inflection, squirming against the cold metal of the lockers and the padlock digging in the small of his back. "Remember what happened the last time you tried this?"

"Just because you got a junkie to protect you now doesn't mean you're off limits during school hours, wimp," Gilmore threatens, getting in Steve's face by leaning down and poking him firmly in the chest. "And by my count, you're _long_ overdue for a beating."

Gilmore fists a hand in the front of Steve's shirt, backing up slightly and balls up his fist as he's pulling back to wind up his swing. Steve automatically curls in on himself and squeezes his eyes shut out of instinct, preparing himself for the inevitable beating. But it never comes because suddenly he's not alone with Gilmore and Justin.

"Hey!" Mr. Stark calls out from his classroom, and Steve really has never been more thankful for his locker being so close to Mr. Stark's classroom. "You boys need to cut that out before I call your fathers and tell them what no good little punks you're being!"

Gilmore lets go of Steve's shirt and puts his hands up as he surrenders to Mr. Stark. The teacher continues to glare at the backs of Gilmore and Justin's heads until the vanish around the corner. He takes on a softer demeanor and approaches Steve with a fatherly presence and pats the boy on the shoulder tenderly.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I already called their parents," Mr. Stark informs. "You have a good day. And say hello to Bruce for me."

"Sure thing, sir."

It felt nice having grown ups looking after him but sometimes it felt more obligatory more than anything else. He knew Mr. Stark meant well and he'd been a friend of the family for years, but he didn't appreciate pity. Steve knows he's probably jumping the gun on this one, he just can't help it if it looks that way to him.

Steve continued down the hall with a few other kids rushing by or chatting away at their lockers and wondered what Bucky had in store for him today. It didn't really matter what they did, as long as Steve was able to hold Bucky's hand and maybe steal a kiss or two. It would really just complete his day.

He looked out over towards the front gates with hope in his eyes, scanning the courtyard for Bucky, but not finding him. Maybe he was late? Steve decided to wait around for a half hour and when Bucky still didn't show up, Steve cut his losses and figured Bucky had something important to do. Maybe he was a little disappointed but he can accept the fact that Bucky needs space.

So Steve walks past the gates and takes the normal route he usually took before he met Bucky. Oddly enough it feels strange walking home by himself without someone to hold his hand or wrap an arm around his shoulders to coddle him with warmth. Steve wandered the streets of his Brooklyn neighbor with the widest smile on his face just thinking about Bucky.

Steve loves it whenever Bucky offers his coat to him to keep him from freezing to death. Winter is fast approaching and these romantic little gestures were starting to happen invariably. Steve likes Bucky's jacket. He likes how the leather feels against him, the scuff marks, the pinback buttons, and the metal studs. It gives it character. Something that is ultimately _Bucky_.

He's so far into his daydream that he hardly registers it when he finally reaches his stoop, or the fact that someone was sitting at the base of it. Steve looks up to see Bucky patiently waiting for him, biting his lip, and beaming a brilliant smile that disguises the fact that he looks pale and sickly.

"Hey, tiger," Bucky flirts, winking at Steve with the intent of making him blush and succeeds.

"Bucky, what are you doing here?" Steve asks breathlessly, body heating up at the rush of adrenaline.

"I was running a little late getting out of my apartment and I assumed you would've walked home when you didn't see me waiting for you," Bucky explains, standing up on the last step of the stoop. He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and walks down to Steve. "Sorry if I worried you, baby."

Steve scoffs.

"Since when do you call me _baby_ , huh?" Steve teases, biting his lip.

"You gotta problem with it?" Bucky retorts, snatching Steve around the waist to pull him in close.

"Not at all," Steve purrs.

Bucky pulls him in for a kiss, but Steve rests his hands against Bucky's chest to stop him before he can. Bucky leans back to give Steve a skeptical and slightly concerned look, as if he's done something wrong.

"Let's go to my room," Steve suggests on a whim and Bucky's mouth instantly drops in exasperation.

"Really?" Bucky asks, getting giddy at what that implication might mean.

"Did I stutter?" Steve challenges with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Bucky is taken aback when Steve trots up the small set of stairs, unlocks the front door, and cast a gaze over his shoulder at Bucky, beckoning the other man to follow him if he dares. Steve crosses the threshold and turns to Bucky as if to say, _well, are you coming or what?_ and that's all it takes to get Bucky to go in after him.

Bucky chases Steve down the hallway and ducks into the boy's room, snatching him up in his arms and plopping them down onto the twin sized bed. Bucky leans his back against the headboard and pulls Steve onto his lap so that the smaller man's legs are on either side of his. Bucky cups Steve's face and holds him still for a moment, just staring deep into his eyes.

"Just... touching, alright?" Steve says, getting a little timid under Bucky's scrutiny.

"Are you sure about this? Because if we start, I might not be able to stop myself," Bucky warns, smoothing a hand through Steve's hair before cupping the base of his skull.

"Yeah," Steve says with a nonchalant shrug, but his voice betrays him.

Bucky can see the nervousness in Steve's eyes and hear it in his tone, so he decides to break the ice a little by kissing Steve chastly on the lips to get him to loosen up. Steve melts into the contact and lets his hands come to rest on Bucky's shoulders to keep himself upright. He returns the kiss enthusiastically, hoping Bucky's tongue would open his mouth soon because he was too shy to do it himself.

An arm wraps around Steve's waist as the other threads through his hair to grip it lightly, pulling him in even further. Seeming to read his mind, Bucky deepens the kiss to lay claim to Steve's mouth. Steve sighs into the contact and tangles his own hands into the ratted mess that is Bucky's hair, pulling on it firmly but mostly on accident. Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat, prompting Steve to break free for a moment.

"Am I pulling your hair too hard?" Steve inquires timidly, afraid he has hurt Bucky.

"No, I like it," Bucky admits with a breathless chuckle.

They immediately start going at it again and Steve utilizes hair pulling to his advantage to make Bucky moan, squirm, and kiss him harder. During the midst of all the over zealous kissing, Steve grinds down on Bucky's lap, mostly by accident, and stiffens when he feels how hard Bucky is against him. Steve moans and grinds down against Bucky again, eliciting a gasp from the other man.

Bucky drops a hand down between them and gropes the front of Steve's pants, finding that Steve is just as excited as he is. Bucky's grinning into each kiss, obviously satisfied with the effect he's having on the smaller man. He rubs the heel of his palm over Steve's erection, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him keen.

"You like how I feel against you, don't you?" Bucky whispers, lips oh so close to Steve's.

Steve nods mutely, biting his lip in concentration.

Bucky goes to undo Steve's fly with agile, experienced fingers and snakes a hand inside the front to pull out his cock. It's flushed a light pink hue, much like the color filling Steve's cheeks and Bucky grasps it to give it a gentle stroke. Steve gasps and arches into the grip, begging for more of that wonderful friction.

"Undo mine," Bucky murmurs into Steve's ear. Steve complies with fumbling hands, sliding back on Bucky's lap to get better access. Eventually he frees Bucky's straining erection. Satisfied, Bucky goes on to say, "Now touch it."

Steve licks his lips precariously, mouth feeling dry, and reaches a hand out to hold Bucky's cock in his hand. It feels weird touching another person even though it's practically second nature to Steve. Bucky feels big in his hand, looks big, compared to himself and he doesn't know if he should be worried about that or not.

"Do what I'm doing," Bucky coaches softly, stroking Steve in a smooth and gentle rhythm. "Stroke it just like this."

Steve looks down and watches as their hands stutter in unison, mimicking Bucky's movements almost precisely. The space between them is filled with hot and heavy pants as soon as they both find their niche, making their moans and gasps that more appealing to the other. It felt ten times more better having someone else touch Steve for a change. Bucky's hands were rough and strong, but oh so gentle and light as it glided along his cock.

Bucky goes in to kiss the side of Steve's neck, pecking and nipping just lightly enough to not leave any marks. He nuzzles his nose into Steve's hair lovingly, panting into his ear as they continue to stroke each other into lust filled madness.

"Just imagine what my cock would feel like inside you," Bucky whispers hotly into Steve's ear, making Steve's hand falter slightly.

Bucky twists his hand on an up stroke, making Steve call out before coming all over Bucky's hand faster than he wanted to. Steve fists his free hand in Bucky's tangled mess he calls hair and buries his face in the crook of Bucky's neck, letting out a long whimper of completion. The hand around Bucky's cock has all but forgotten what it's supposed to be doing but Bucky helps him by wrapping his hand around Steve's to direct him.

After Steve comes down from his orgasmic high, Bucky resumes to kissing him deeply and coaxing Steve to stroke faster and faster. Their movements are a flurry of lips, tongue, and hands moving at the speed of light. Steve is pulling on Bucky's hair and nipping his lips until Bucky is panting, moaning mess. Steve can feel Bucky's cock pulse before he finally comes with a low groan.

They spend the next few moments panting from exertion and idly kissing each other and Steve is so dazed by it all that he can barely register the sound of the front door opening.

When the door shuts, however, Steve is knocked out of his reverie and is scrambling to fix himself back into his pants. Steve wipes his hands off on a towel before throwing it at Bucky to do the same. Bucky is doing up his pants by the time Steve puts on a record, and settles back onto the bed hastily, sitting across from Bucky.

A few moments later, Bruce appears at Steve's bedroom door, knocking haphazardly before entering. His face lights up a little when he sees Bucky sitting with Steve on the bed.

"Oh, I wasn't aware that you had company over, kiddo," Bruce says, looking over at Bucky with an observant gaze.

"Yeah, uh, this is my friend Bucky," Steve gushes, still a brilliant shade of pink from his and Bucky's _activities_.

"Nice to meet you Bucky. I'm Bruce. Steve's step dad," Bruce introduces.

And luckily he doesn't go for a handshake.

"You too, sir," Bucky responds respectfully.

"So, what have you boys been doing?" Bruce asks.

"Just listening to records," Steve answers quickly.

An obvious lie, Bruce can tell, but he wasn't going to say anything. As long as they weren't doing anything they shouldn't, Bruce didn't really care.

"Alright," Bruce says with a nod of his head.

He looks between Steve and Bucky, noticing the faint tension as well as Steve's flushed face and damp lips. He doesn't say anything about the matter, however.

"Okay, well I'm going to be cooking dinner in a little while," Bruce informs. "You are more than welcomed to join us, Bucky."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'll leave you boys to it, then," Bruce says as he starts to close the door.

Once Bruce is gone and walking down the hall, Steve and Bucky share a look of mischief and a nervous laugh. Almost getting caught by Bruce was both frightening and thrilling. Steve is blushing to the point where he can't look Bucky in the eyes.

"Hey, about what I said... I hope I didn't scare you," Bucky says bashfully, running his hands down Steve's thighs. "I just can't help it sometimes."

"It's fine," Steve tells him, kissing him once more. "I think I might like to try that someday."

This time it's Bucky's turn to blush. Bucky wasn't sure what had gotten into Steve for acting so bold lately, but he decided that he didn't really care. All he could think about now was making love to Steve and he'd do that right now if he could.

But, for Steve, he could wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a late and crappy update (not to mention short), but the best is yet to come.

Now that Bruce was home Steve felt inclined to leave his bedroom door open. He knows Bucky won't try anything with Bruce milling around in the kitchen, but it still made him feel guilty. Like he was up to no good. Steve would love nothing more than to just lay down and make out with Bucky, but he can settle for this instead.

Right now they were listening to records, staying true to the lie Steve had told Bruce, and discussing the different genres of music they liked. Surprisingly, Bucky was a huge fan of pop as well as some country despite his roots being firmly anchored in Punk. He talked a lot about Roy Orbison and how he was absolutely in love with his voice.

"I think my step-dad might have a record of his in his bedroom," Steve chimes in, noticing the way Bucky tilts his heads questionably. "I mean, if you want me to put it on."

"I'd like that a lot, actually," Bucky replies, face widening from his elated smile. "Besides, it'll give you a break from the Ramones for a while."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Steve rebuffs, scoffing a little as he goes to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, so you _do_ like them," Bucky teases, being playful as he casual lays a hand on one of Steve's knobby knees. "I bet you think Johnny is the cutest."

"I do not," Steve denies, blushing a faint shade of pink that tells Bucky otherwise.

"Everyone always falls for the guitarist," Bucky sighs heavily with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for leather jackets and great hair," Steve chortles and it earns him a shoulder shove from Bucky.

"You're a little punk, you know that?" Bucky reprimands.

He captures Steve in headlock and proceeds to rub his knuckles into the smaller man's scalp to ruffle his neatly kept hair. Steve giggles and brings his hands up to pull at Bucky's wrists in a half-hearted attempt to stop him. Bucky relents after a few more moments and releases Steve with a satisfied huff of air.

Steve's giggling dies down when he realizes just how close Bucky is to him now and he can't help but recall what happened between them just moments before Bruce came home. Steve still can't wrap his head around it and why he let it happen, but it did. That's not to say he regrets doing it, only that it could've lasted a little longer.

Bucky cups the side of Steve's face, running his thumb across his cheek as if he's contemplating kissing him. He hesitates for the briefest second, however, eyes darting towards the open door as he resigns the notion and offers a small smile instead before letting his hand slip away.

"You should probably go find that record," Bucky suggests, noticing the faint twitch of disappointment flash across Steve's features. "Keep your chin up, tiger. We have plenty of time for that later," he adds with a wink, making Steve smile briefly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Steve concurs even as he feels a tad let down that Bucky didn't kiss him.

Steve slides off the bed and heads for the door, feeling despondent despite the fact that Bucky has a point. He should be feeling thankful that Bucky respects his space, seeing as how his step dad his just in the other room, but Steve can only kick himself for setting boundaries.

Nevertheless, he lets it go and pads down the hall towards Bruce's room. There's a special little case Bruce keeps his records in under his bed and Steve drops down to his knees beside the mattress to retrieve it. When he pulls it out from under the bed he notes the fine collection of dust it's gathered over the past year.

Steve deduces that Bruce probably hasn't touched it since Steve's mother died and he frowns at the final summation. The case itself, underneath all the dust, has the embossed initials of _S.R._ in the top left corner. That's right, it had originally been his mother's case. _Sarah Rogers._ Bruce hadn't said her name in so long that Steve almost forgot his own mother's name.

Without even thinking, Steve dusts off the top of the case and unbuckles it with deft fingers so he can rifle through the minimalist selection of music. Peggy Lee, Leslie Gore, Temptations, Billie Holiday, The Beatles, The Who... Steve thinks for a moment that Bruce's Roy Orbison album wasn't in here after all until he finds it near the end of the stack.

Steve slides it safely out of the case and runs a reverent hand across it's surface, cherishing the feel of something that hasn't been touched in what feels like centuries. He knows he probably shouldn't be nosing around in his mother's and Bruce's records, but he can't help it. Bruce shouldn't feel so inclined to push the memory of Sarah away so hastily.

He latches up the case and slides back under the bed and returns to his bedroom to find Bucky with his back turned towards him. Steve watches him for a moment as Bucky sheds out of his jacket and lays it over the back of Steve's desk chair. Bucky stretches his arms over his head languidly, rolling his shoulders as he takes a look around Steve's room and Steve can feel his cheeks burn from how casual but sensual Bucky appears to be.

Steve clears his throat to get the punk's attention.

"That it?" Bucky asks, referring to the record Steve's clutching to his chest when he turns around.

"Yeah."

"Sweet. Put it on," Bucky says with an encouraging smile.

Steve swears he dies a little inside every time Bucky flashes that smile. It's a smile that could break a thousand hearts and bewitch you into doing something you normally wouldn't. Steve wonders idly, as he walks over to his record player, if Bucky is aware of the effect he has on people or if he's just one of those blissfully ignorant gorgeous people. Steve is going for the latter.

Bucky would never take advantage like that.

He slips the jacket off of the record and sets it aside to place the black vinyl on the wheel. Steve flips on the record player and goes to lay the needle gently on the right track.

"Care to dance?" Bucky asks, holding a hand out towards Steve.

Steve takes him by the hand with a bashful smile and lets Bucky twirl him over to him so that his hands rest on Steve's shoulders. Steve lets his hands slip down to Bucky's waist as the sound of a faint crackling fills the silence between them before the first song finally comes on. It's a song that Steve's heard before but he can hardly remember the lyrics anymore.

_I was alright for awhile  
I could smile for awhile  
But I saw you last night  
You held my hand so tight  
As you stopped to say, "Hello"_

_Oh, you wished me well  
You couldn't tell  
That I'd been crying over you  
Crying over you_

They move in unison to the cascading timbre of Roy Orbison's smooth voice, getting easily lost in the song as well as each other's eyes. It isn't really dancing, so much as holding one another close as they sway, but it's still pleasant nonetheless. The song itself has a solemn subtext to it, like the pain of heartbreak, but it seems to fit either way as Roy's voice brings them closer until their foreheads are touching.

They're so close that their lips are almost brushing against the other's and Bucky tightens his arms around Steve's waist. He can tell Bucky is itching to kiss him because Steve can see the precarious way Bucky dampens his lips with a quick dart of his tongue.

_I thought that I was over you  
But it's true, so true  
I love you even more  
Than I did before_

_But, darling, what can I do?_

It isn't until the crescendo when Steve musters up the courage to inch up on the tips of his toes to kiss Bucky softly. The sheer power of Roy's vocal range shines bright and it makes them both breathlessly helpless as they throw caution to the wind.

_For you don't love me  
And I'll always be crying over you  
Crying over you_

Bucky sighs into the sweet embrace of Steve's lips and holds the smaller man in his arms as they kiss ardently. Steve's arms wind themselves further around Bucky's neck as he tries to hang on. They become so lost in the kiss that they hardly notice it when the next few songs drift by in a low hum, like a lullaby.

One of Bucky's hands comes up to cup the back of Steve's neck as he opts to deepen the kiss. Steve's hands come to rest against Bucky's chest and grip at his worn muscle shirt that has some obscure band on it, twisting the fabric slightly. Steve is keening and squirming against Bucky by the time Bruce calls out to them from the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," Bruce announces, prompting Bucky and Steve to part breathlessly.

"I guess that's your cue," Bucky says with a faint huff of air. "I should be going anyway."

"You can stay," Steve offers, still holding onto Bucky's shirt.

"Do you really think now is a good time to be meeting each other's parents?" Bucky inquires with light hearted humor.

"No, but Bruce would be very offended if you refused his invitation," Steve counters. He shamelessly bats his lashes at Bucky and it earns him a groan. "Please?"

"I guess I could stay for a little while longer," Bucky relents with a heavy sigh, giving Steve a defeated half smile. "Twisting my arm like you do..."

"You love it," Steve teases as he shuts off his record player.

He walks over towards his bedroom door and motions for Bucky to follow. Bucky follows Steve down the hall and into the kitchen where he promptly gestures towards the chair on the left side of the table. Steve takes the chair opposite to him on the right side and they wait patiently for Bruce's final touches.

"Hope you boys like spaghetti," Bruce says over his shoulder as he brings a couple of plates over to the table.

He sets one down respectively in front of both of them and returns a moment later with his own, taking a seat at the head of the four person table.

"Thank you," Steve says gratefully, giving Bucky a raise of his eyebrows and a sideways nod of his head over towards Bruce.

"Yeah, it looks and smells great, sir," Bucky comments respectfully, flashing a smile to prove that he's polite despite his unruly appearance.

"Thank you. Steve's mother used to make it all the time whenever we had company," Bruce explains and maybe there's a hint of sadness to his voice. "Speaking of which, did I happen hear you two playing one of my albums earlier?"

"Uh, yeah,"Steve says slowly, looking at Bucky precariously. "Bucky's a huge fan of Roy Orbison."

"Is that so?" Bruce inquires rhetorically, sparing a gaze at Bucky. "Steve's mother was in love with him. In fact, _Crying_ was one of her favorites. So, you're a fan of Roy too, huh?"

"Very much so, sir. I'd give anything to sing like him," Bucky admits with a smirk before taking a bite of spaghetti.

"Oh, are you a musician?"

"Yeah, but I'm no where near as good as Roy."

"Don't let that keep you from trying your best. Everyone has to start somewhere."

"Yes, sir. You're right."

Bucky can't help the goofy smile that creeps across his face because no one, not even his own parents, have ever given him a reason to feel supported in his pursuit of achieving his dream. Bucky feels a little jealous of Steve because he has such a supportive parent. A parent who wasn't even related to him by blood was better than Bucky's own parents combined. How sad is that?

"You play any instruments?" Bruce continues after a bite or two of food.

"He plays the bass in a punk band," Steve adds, looking up from his plate.

"Really?" Bruce says with a mildly surprised tone, even though he knows he should have suspected it.

"Yeah, I've been playing for a few years now with a couple of my friends. I was hoping I could bring Steve to one of our shows this coming weekend," Bucky ventures on a limb, getting a wide-eyed star from Steve. He adds, "With your permission, of course, sir."

"I don't see why not," Bruce shrugs.

Steve doesn't think his eyes could get any wider but he'd be mistaken. He nearly chokes on his food when Bruce says it's okay so nonchalantly to the point where he thinks his step father must be joking. But he isn't. His face is completely placid and serious.

"Just make sure to return him in one piece," Bruce jokes after swallowing a small mouthful of noodles and sauce.

With that being said Bruce takes another bite of food and that part of the conversation seems to dwindle down for a while as they eat in peaceful silence with the exception of a few compliments by Bucky on Bruce's cooking. Steve's just glad Bruce didn't burn dinner like he would have a few weeks ago.

Steve's in the middle of chewing a mouthful when he feels a booted foot nudge his own and almost bites his tongue off when Bucky winks at him right in front of Bruce. Steve turns a little pink in the cheeks and the tips of his ears start to burn, thankful that Bruce doesn't notice.

Steve grins a little and nudges Bucky's booted foot back and the two of them start their own mini war of footsie underneath the table. They try to act casual by eating their spaghetti and succeed because Bruce is none the wiser. They do, however, ease up on it when Bruce asks more questions about Bucky and Bucky spares no secrecy.

He tells Bruce all about his parents when he asks and tells him about the various odd jobs he's had ever since he's been on his own. Steve even learns a few new things about Bucky he didn't know, like his real name. He never would've taken him for a James let alone a Buchanan. But somehow it oddly fits him.

Bruce seems really enthralled by Bucky's stories, however Bucky leaves out the part about the drugs and Steve figures it's probably for the best. They keep talking even as the evening progresses and their plates become empty with only the red stain of sauce remaining. Bruce slowly lets himself drift free from the conversation, however, and he just sits back and listens to Bucky and Steve's playful and friendly banter.

He excuses himself after a few moments and sets out to clean the dishes to give them some privacy whilst still actively keeping an ear trained on them. There's something comforting in the knowledge of someone like Bucky taking Steve under his wing. He seems like a nice enough boy to keep his Stevie out of trouble.

There's a certain subtext to their conversation that keeps Bruce on his toes as he tries to decipher it over the rush of the faucet. The barely hidden tension in their body language is almost a dead giveaway though. And it hits him after a brief lapse of judgment when he remembers how flushed they were when he found them in Steve's room.

Bruce spares a glance over his shoulder and can't help but notice the way they openly gaze at each other with such frankness and unabashed emotion. And Bruce knows then and there that Steve has fallen in love for the first time and despite feeling ever so mildly averse to the idea of Steve being a homosexual, he can't stop from smiling fondly to himself. In Steve's mind, Bucky's _the_ one.

Bruce is sure of it because he used to stare at Sarah the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are taken from Crying and written by Roy Orbison.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve finds himself arduously counting down the days until Bucky’s gig on Friday night and it honestly feels like _the longest_ four days of his life. Longer than the last few days of every school year and more boring than one of Mr. Stane’s rants on natural selection. Usually, Steve never really minds school, he enjoys it for the most part, but this week in particular had him climbing the walls. It’s almost like it was intentional just to make him suffer more.

He hates it when Mr. Stane calls on him because he knows it’s out of spite for being so close to Mr. Stark. It’s no secret that Obadiah Stane and Howard Stark have an old vendetta against each other. Stane has been gunning for Stark’s job as the science teacher for years now, and he was still salty about his so called _superior_ intellect being wasted in biology. So, since Steve was like a son to Howard, Mr. Stane took out his frustrations on him whenever he felt like it. Especially when he knew Steve wasn’t paying attention.

This usually results in Steve being humiliated in front of the whole class when he stammers out an _”I don’t know”_. Everyone laughs at Steve for a brief moment and Mr. Stane stands over him with a pleased smirk on his bearded face, doing nothing to stop the class from carrying on like they do. So, yeah… it’s going to be a long week for Steve if that was any indicator.

Steve sluggishly chugs along through the next few periods, bidding his time until lunch so he can at least talk to Tony and invite him along to the gig. Tony is probably grounded again for something or another, but Steve knows his friend would never miss out on the opportunity to _finally_ meet the infamous Bucky _and_ see a kick ass show. Punishment be damned.

Science is a breeze since Mr. Stark is pretty lax on Steve and History class with Mr. Coulson goes by pretty smoothly considering it’s one of Steve’s favorite classes and he actually enjoys learning about things from the past. Chemistry isn’t so bad either because Steve likes how aloof Mr. Selvig can get from time to time. Plus, there wasn’t that many kids in chemistry seeing as how it was full of asthmatics like himself that couldn’t participate in Mr. Barton’s gym class. All things considered, the day doesn’t go by as slow as he thought it would and he makes it to lunch in no time.

He gets his tray of less than savory cafeteria food and goes to his and Tony’s usual table near the back. He’s the first one to make it so he takes his time, picking at his food and waiting patiently for Tony to show up as the rest of the lunch room bustles with chatter all around him. Steve takes a look around the cafeteria, watching all the other students conversing with each other and generally having a good time.

He can see Thor, a member of the football team, a few tables over trying to flirt with Jane Foster and her rambunctious friend Darcy Lewis. He seems to be striking out with Jane for the most part, but Darcy encourages the flirting by being coy herself. Sitting right next to them, witnessing the whole debacle, is captain of the football team Darren Cross and his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne. Jane, Darcy, and Hope were all on the cheerleading team so it only made sense that all five of them were sitting together.

The foreign exchange students Wanda and Pietro Maximoff are sitting alone, keeping to themselves for the most part. As far as Steve knows, Pietro was on the track team but Wanda wasn’t very interested in athletics. She mostly just follows her brother around with her nose stuffed in a book. They seem to be alright people, but Steve wouldn't call himself an expert.

Steve’s only spoken to the brother a few times, but the sister kind of gives him the heebie jeebies. It’s not that he thought she was _weird_ , but because she gave off a certain persona that usually drove other people away. Like she didn’t want to be bothered. She wasn’t very social, unless her brother was around, and everybody called her a witch because she was supposedly into some strange practices from her homeland. Although, Steve believes that those are just rumors.

And then there’s the table of misfits… Scott Lang and his merry band of pranksters Luis, Dave, and Kurt who were sometimes accompanied by Peter Quill, but he was probably off chasing Gamora around right now. Luis is running his mouth about some _crazy stupid fine_ girl he met at an art gallery in Queens while Scott and the others just roll their eyes in disbelief. Steve can only smirk to himself as Tony saunters over towards his table.

“Took you long enough,” Steve teases with a smile.

“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Sassy Pants,” Tony greets, setting down his tray across from Steve. “What’s shakin’, lover boy?”

“A lot!” Steve gushes, leaning across the width of the table excitedly. “You know how you’ve been bothering me to let you meet Bucky?”

“Uh-huh, go on,” Tony says, picking at his food.

“ _Well_ , Bucky just so happens to be having a gig this Friday and I kinda wanted you to tag along,” Steve divulges with a raised brow and a grin. “I mean, unless you got something better to do?”

“I’m actually scheduled to be grounded that day, but I can definitely make an exception,” Tony expresses enthusiastically, leaning towards Steve. “Just tell me when and where and I'm there.”

Tony furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side as if to think for a moment.

“Did not mean for that to rhyme, but you get the idea,” Tony concludes, sitting back. “Does Bruce know?”

“He does… In fact, Bucky had dinner with us just last night,” Steve tells him matter-of-fact. “He asked Bruce if I could go to his gig himself.”

“What?!” Tony exclaims, catching the attention of a few students near by. “You brought your boyfriend to dinner? With your dad? Does he..?”

“Bruce doesn’t know about that yet. But I think he might be suspicious.”

“Why do you say that?” Tony asks precariously, eye balling his friend.

“He sorta almost caught me and Bucky in my room,” Steve admits with a faint blush.

“ _Shut up_!” Tony whispers slowly with wide eyes. “How far did you guys go?”

“That’s none of _your_ business,” Steve chides, talking a drink from his milk carton.

“ _You’re_ the one who brought it up,” Tony counters, pointing his fork at Steve accusingly. “Now dish! I need the details!”

“I'm still a virgin and that’s all you need to know,” Steve deflects, making Tony grumble to himself.

“I thought getting a boyfriend would make you more fun, but you’re still a stick in the mud,” Tony complains, throwing a tantrum.

“Excuse me for not yelling my sexual exploits from the rooftops,” Steve jabs, picking at his food. “Anyway… Back to the main topic of discussion.”

“Always changing the subject…” Tony sighs.

“Bucky’s gig is gonna be at Mick’s Music Box at eight o’clock. We can always meet up at my place after school if you don't know the way,” Steve suggests and Tony’s seems to consider this.

“Sweet.”

“And be sure not to get caught this time,” Steve reminds, using a particularly sassy tone. “I don’t wanna be waiting around like a moron again.”

“It’s not my fault my dad watches me like a hawk,” Tony defends, frowning. “I swear he’s like Wolverine. Ya know, from those X-Men comics? He’s got like crazy intense senses. Hears and sees _everything_!”

“Be quieter then,” Steve teases.

“Oh, thank you, Steve. I never thought of that,” Tony replies sarcastically, resting his fork against the edge of his tray. “How much do I owe you for those pearls of wisdom?”

“Alright, smart ass…” Steve giggles.

“ _Language_!” Tony rebukes with playful harsh whisper.

“What _language_? I said smart,” Steve responds, getting hit in the forehead with a grape Tony had flung at him.

They sit there for a few moments, eating their lunch as the cafeteria bustles around them and Tony catches himself watching Steve intently. He’s never seen his friend this happy since Sarah died and it fills his heart with warmth. He notices that Steve smiles a lot more than he used to and sometimes he isn’t even aware of it. Not to mention that Steve’s eyes slightly twinkle each time he brings up Bucky. He truly is _happy_.

“Jesus…” Tony breathes out.

“What?” Steve questions with a quizzical expression.

“I was just thinking how lucky Bucky is to have someone like you,” Tony informs him ardently and it’s the most genuine sounding thing he’s ever said to Steve.

“Really?” Steve inquires breathlessly, like he’s on the verge of crying. “Do you really think so?”

“I mean, if I were into dudes I’d be all over you myself, but that’s neither here nor there…”

“Tony…” Steve scolds softly when Tony turns it into a joke on reflex.

It’s almost like Tony was allergic to saying nice things without make a witty remark afterwards. Steve knew he meant well, though.

“Yeah, Steve,” Tony concedes when he sees the worry in Steve’s icy gaze. “I honestly and truly believe that Bucky is blessed for having you as a boyfriend. You’d have to be blind to _not_ see that.”

“I bet you could charm the skin off a snake,” Steve dismisses bashfully.

“I mean it, Stevie. You’re one in a million, kid,” Tony swears, clicking his teeth and giving his best friend a wink of encouragement.

Steve blushes slightly, offering up a shy smile that’s to die for and _god damn_ is Steve just about the cutest thing Tony’s ever seen. He almost felt jealous that Steve was being _stolen_ away from him, so to speak. If Tony were gay he probably would’ve ended up romancing Steve in some way. Yeah, they were friends and that would’ve been awkward, but if Tony ever had a gay phase he imagined it would be with Steve, just because Steve knows Tony better than anyone else. They had a special bond.

“I’m kinda glad you’re not into guys,” Steve says aloud, as if reading Tony’s thoughts.

“Why’s that?” Tony muses, looking over at his friend idling eating his lunch.

“Because if you were, I probably would have ended up falling in love with you,” Steve informs casually. “Might have even gave up my virginity to you.”

“Well, wait minute. That ship hasn’t sailed yet,” Tony intervenes, snapping to attention once again. “We can still make that happen.”

“You’ll have to fight Bucky for it,” Steve taunts, giving Tony a challenging expression.

“If taking your virginity is on the line then Bucky’s got another thing coming,” Tony proclaims, feigning seriousness.

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve reprimands with a playful laugh.

“Stop giving me ideas then,” Tony flirts back, seeming to revert back to his old snarky self after their heart to heart.

The rest of the lunch period carries on much like this with Tony and Steve throwing good-natured banter back and forth, occasionally discussing the mundane gossip floating around the school. Steve talks about the gig some more, confessing his nervousness about the whole situation. He was impatient and giddy with butterflies at the thought of seeing his boyfriend performing onstage.

It really put things into perspective for Steve. It was a turning point in his and Bucky’s relationship. Bucky wanted to bare a part of his heart and soul to Steve in the form of music and it was apparent that things between them were serious now. Maybe Steve was jumping the gun a little bit, getting himself excited over a normal gig that Bucky was more than accustomed to by now, but somehow it felt special. Bucky had asked Bruce’s _permission_ to essentially take Steve out on a date and Bruce obliged to that request wholeheartedly. It felt _surreal_ to Steve.

The ringing of the bell snaps Steve out of his reverie. All the students simultaneously gather their book bags and trays and begin to filter out of the lunch room. Steve bids Tony adieu before the split up and go to their separate classrooms. Steve has Math with Mr. Pym next period and he doesn’t want to be late considering Mr. Pym was a stickler for punctuality. So he pretty much sprints to his next class as fast as he can without losing his breath.

Luckily he makes it to Math with seconds to spare and takes his seat near the back of the room. Despite being short, Steve usually doesn’t have a hard time seeing the board from where he is. Steve tries to pay attention and actually learn something in class but his mind keeps wandering and he eventually just starts scribbling nonsense all over his abandoned sheet of equations.

He nearly gets sent to Mr. Fury’s office _twice_ by Mr. Pym because he was too busy daydreaming and drawing doodles of Bucky when he should’ve been paying more attention to Mr. Pym’s lesson on quadratic equations. Luckily, Mr. Pym was a pretty easy going guy and didn’t follow through on his warnings. At least where Steve was concerned. The same special treatment could not be said for Scott, however.

Scott Lang was one of the laziest students in fifth period and _never_ did his homework until the last minute. Steve had witnessed Scott hastily filling out the answers just minutes before class started on _many_ occasions. It wasn’t even because Scott was dumb because he was actually pretty smart, one of the brightest actually, but he suffered from procrastination more than anyone Steve has ever known. It also didn’t help that he was always pulling pranks on the faculty with his ragtag team of misfits.

He was definitely one of the cool kids and, yeah, if Steve wasn’t with Bucky already he’d be all over Scott faster than a cheetah on a gazelle. To say Steve had a crush on Scott Lang would be an understatement. Scott was a wet dream come true. Not only was he a complete badass that wore a leather jacket and rebelled against the _system_ , but he was quite intelligent when it suited him. You could say that Scott was the dumbest smart person at school. He was also a total doofus when he thought no one was watching, but Steve saw through that. So did Pym.

Maybe that’s why Pym was so hard on him. Pym was like a father to Scott and he wanted nothing more than to see him succeed. He’s probably been to the principal’s office more than Gilmore Hodge and that’s saying _a lot_ considering Scott isn’t an asshole. In fact, Scott has only ever punched one person at school and that was only because he was provoked by that jerk Paxton and the whole football team. Steve likes to think of that as Scott doing a public service for the rest of the bullied kids, however, so it doesn’t necessarily count.

After Pym calls out Steve’s name a third time in the span of thirty minutes, he figures it’s time to actually listen for once. He pushes his doodles off to one side and sets out to take real notes, but this pipe dream is cut short. Once Pym has his back turned and starts writing on the chalkboard, Scott Lang leans over towards Steve so that they’re within whispering distance.

“Hey, dude,” Scott whispers to him, getting in Steve’s personal space. “I know about your secret.”

Steve jerks his head over at Scott, wide eyed and stunned at what he might be implying. He becomes flustered and scrambles for some form of conviction despite his nervous gaze. He stares at Scott, absolutely mortified by the thought of his sexuality getting out to the rest of the school. Scott was a nice guy and he thought of the little people, like Steve. So, surely, he wouldn’t threaten to _”out”_ Steve.

Would he?


	8. Chapter 8

This was really a conversation he would rather not have in the middle of math class within earshot of everyone else right now. But at least Scott was whispering so as not to drag too much attention to them. So there was that. Still, it made Steve extremely uneasy about the whole situation and wants nothing more than to just curl up in a ball and disappear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve deflects quickly, sparing a glance to the front of the class to see Mr. Pym not paying attention.

“I'm not stupid, Steve. I heard what you and Tony were talking about at lunch earlier,” Scott reiterates, smirking in triumph.

“Whatever you heard, Scott, it wasn’t true,” Steve tries to explain, blushing softly as his eyes dart around in paranoia.

“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, dude,” Scott tells him frankly with that all knowing smirk of his. “Especially when it’s something as juicy as this.”

“Look, Scott, you can’t let anyone know. It’s a pretty big deal and I don't need people harassing me even more,” Steve gushes in a panicked whisper, shaking at the thought of his secret coming out because Scott couldn’t keep his cute trap shut. “I need to know that I can trust you with this.”

“Oh… Well, yeah! Of course, dude,” Scott stammers after a moment, becoming flustered a little bit as well by the seriousness of the whole situation. “You can totally count on me! Just call me the _vault of secrets_. Lock it up and throw away the key. Yep, that’s me.”

“Thank you,” Steve says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

He knows Scott can keep his word but sometimes people just blurt things out for no apparent reason at all, and that scares Steve a little.

“Yeah, don't mention it,” Scott replies with a surge of giddiness. Scott watches as Steve turns back to his notes and he becomes anxious. “But, uh, while we’re on the subject, I was wondering if there was something in it for me? I mean, I brought it up in the first place because I'm actually _interested_ … If you know what I mean.”

“R-Really?” Steve stutters, taken aback by Scott’s forwardness.

“Yeah, dude!” Scott whispers with enthusiasm, arching his eyebrows towards his hairline. “How could I _not_ be interested?”

He blushes again because he doesn’t know what to think about it all. Sure, he kind of has a crush on Scott, but he’s in a relationship with Bucky. How was he supposed to let Scott down gently without making him upset or despondent. What would keep him from telling the whole school if he didn’t put out? No… Scott was a good person. He’d never blackmail Steve like that.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Scott. We’ve never really hung out or talked to each other for that matter. It would be kinda awkward,” Steve explains, trying to keep Bucky out of the conversation so as not to get Scott jealous.

“No, no, no! I swear I'm totally cool!” Scott proclaims, trying to keep his voice down so Pym doesn’t hear him. “I do this sorta thing _all the time_! You can even ask Luis. He’ll back me up on that.”

“I never took you for that kinda person, to be honest,” Steve admits, surprised that Scott was being so open about it all. “I know you have the whole _bad boy_ persona, but I always figured you were more refined than that… No offense, of course.”

“Dude… I gotta have fun too, ya know,” Scott boasts with a playful snarky attitude. “What better way to blow off some steam than to go to a kick ass punk show?”

“Wait, what?” Steve asks with a confused and lost expression.

“What?” Scott echoes, at a loss too.

“Why did you say that?” Steve inquires, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Because I like going to gigs?” Scott answers in an uncertain question, puzzled by Steve’s sudden shift in mood.

Suddenly it all clicked and Steve felt like a total moron. When Scott said he knew Steve’s secret, he hadn’t been referring to Steve still being in the closet, but rather about the gig he invited Tony to. Scott probably thought it was some super secret and prestigious show and he wanted an invite as well. Of course that’s what Scott had been talking about this whole time. Steve worried himself over nothing.

“So, you wanna invitation to the show I'm going to? Is that it?” Steve questions, treading lightly just to be certain.

“ _Especially_ if it’s invite only,” Scott adds, making it a point to drive home that fact by leaning over closer to Steve.

“I don’t know, man,” Steve sighs, deciding to have a little fun with Scott now that he wasn’t in full panic mode. “This isn’t some show at the CBGB where anyone can just walk in. How do I know if you’re cool? I could seriously get in trouble if I invite the wrong type of people, you know?”

“Steve! It’s me, Scott!” Scott proclaims with a laidback nature as he tries to convince Steve. “I’m totally cool! Remember that time I threw my tray of food _all_ over that asshat Darren Cross?”

“You tripped and accidentally spilled it on him and his girlfriend,” Steve points out with an arched brow. “And then he punched you in the face and broke your nose.”

“Okay, be that as it may…” Scott concedes, losing steam fast when the scenario comes back to him in it’s original iteration. “But I still pull the best pranks in the school… With the help of my friends, of course.”

“Fair enough,” Steve relents and Scott gives him a hopeful smile.

“Anything you want to share with the rest of the class, _gentlemen_?” Pym interrupts, finally catching wind of the conversation happening towards the back of the room.

“No, sir,” Steve says immediately, sitting up straight in his chair.

“I can’t begin to imagine what was so important that you had to disrupt the rest of the class with your own little knitting circle,” Pym says with a sarcastic tone, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well to be fair, sir, me and Steve were having a nice and quiet conversation. You didn’t even realise it was happening until you turned around and _you_ announced it to the class in a very strong tone that can be quite jarring on occasion,” Scott offers up like the sassy scamp he is.

“Mr. Lang, are you trying to get sent to the principal’s office?” Mr. Pym threatens, seemingly unimpressed with Scott’s charming, yet sometimes brainless, snark.

“That’s a pretty loaded question, sir,” Scott comments, looking over at Steve proactively before turning back to Pym. “I feel like no matter what I say, you’re gonna send me there either way.”

“Well, then. You’d be absolutely correct, Mr. Lang,” Pym states matter-of-fact with a smug grin. “You can start heading there now.”

“No! It was my fault, Mr Pym,” Steve speaks up, feeling guilty for getting Scott in trouble. Even though Scott was the one who started talking to him in the first place. “I asked him what answer he got for one of your equations because I was honestly lost.”

“Is that so?” Pym asks slowly, looking between the two boys suspiciously.

“Absolutely, Mr. Pym!” Scott testifies, looking every bit of serious as possible without coming off as condescending. He spares a glance at Steve, who nods his head. “I'm honestly not surprised he asked for help. This guy’s a dreamer for sure, sir. Got his head in the clouds half the time.”

“You’re off the hook this time, Mr. Lang,” Mr. Pym sighs heavily, obviously not buying it, but he’s too tired to even bother anymore. He looks over in Steve’s meek direction with a warning. “Next time actually pay attention to the lesson, Mr. Rogers. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that before it gets through to you.”

Mr. Pym turns back around towards the board and goes back to scribbling equations. Scott waits a moment before leaning back over to Steve to continue their conversation where they left off before they were interrupted.

“So? What do you say?” Scott asks, whispering even quieter than he had before. “Am I cool enough?”

“Yeah, Scott, you’re really cool,” Steve assures, keeping an eye out for Pym. He nods his head over in Mr. Pym’s direction cautiously. “But we can’t talk about this right now.”

“ _Oh, right_...” Scott acknowledges slowly. “How about after school? I could meet up with you and we could talk some more.”

“Sure. Um, I have Ms. Hill for English next period. Maybe you can meet me outside of her class?” Steve suggests, still keeping his voice down.

“Sounds like a plan,” Scott enthuses with a big dumb grin, socking Steve playfully in the shoulder. Then he adds, “You’re a pretty cool kid, Stevie.”

“Thanks,” Steve gushes, turning a light shade of pink.

Scott winks at him and they both turn back to Pym’s lesson before they can get caught and scolded again. Steve feels overwhelmed by the whole situation. Scott Lang _actually_ talked to him and he was pretty sweet on top of that. He has a quick tongue and he chooses his comebacks carefully, but as quick witted as Scott is, he’s also painfully obtuse about what’s right in front of him. So is Steve apparently.

Class ends and Scott says _catch ya later_ before they both head to their respective classes. Steve feels a little giddy about meeting up with Scott after school and it’s almost reminiscent of his first date with Bucky. Although, this isn’t a date. This is just him and Scott hanging out like they’re good friends. Yeah, he has a teeny tiny little crush on Scott, and maybe that’s why he relented and humored Scott, but he was still in love with Bucky and no amount of infatuation would change that.

To be honest, having Scott as a friend and ally at school sounded a lot more pleasing anyway. Besides, who’s to say Scott was even into men in the first place? Scott didn’t seem like he was into anything other than pulling pranks with his friends and having fun. Steve doesn’t recall Scott ever having a girlfriend, now that he thinks about it. Not that he’s keeping track or anything. He may entertain the idea of him and Scott, but he isn’t serious about it. It’s just where his mind goes when he’s bored.

He was still Bucky’s.

He makes it through Ms. Hill’s English class smoothly, more or less, and when the bell rings he collects his things in his book bag without haste. He figures it’ll take Scott a minute or two to meet up with him, so he isn’t in a complete rush. He waits for the rest of the class to file out before he stands up from his desk and makes his way to the hallway. He can see Scott jogging up to the room, leather jacket bouncing on his shoulders as he trots over.

“Hey, Stevie!” Scott greets, giving him a huge goofy smile. “You waited!”

“I said I would,” Steve replies, returning the smile with one of his own.

“So? Where to?” Scott asks, catching his breath when he’s finally closer to Steve.

“You can walk me home. We’ll talk on the way,” Steve tells him.

Scott nods once and says _lead the way_. They make their way through the buzzing hallways of the school and out into the main courtyard. Steve looks over to the front gate out of habit even though he knows Bucky said he wouldn’t be able to meet up with him after school because of _personal business_. Steve wasn’t sure what Bucky had meant by that and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried. Steve tells himself it’s probably just preparation for the gig on Friday and he has to rehearse with his bandmates.

“I’m glad we’re able to talk now instead of having Pym breathing down our necks,” Scott comments with a chuckle once they’re out on the street.

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird though,” Steve says with an embarrassed laugh.

“What is?”

“I’ve never got in trouble for talking during class before,” Steve realises, looking over at Scott bashfully.

“I’m corrupting you!” Scott announces with an ominous voice. He nudges Steve’s arm with his elbow in a playful manner and it makes the smaller boy flush. “At last! My ranks will raise up against this system of oppression!”

This gets Steve to giggle a little. He never realized just how funny Scott was until now. And here he thought Luis was the hilarious one of his group, which reminds Steve…

“Where are the other guys you usually hang around?” Steve inquires, looking up at Scott.

“I told them I had to get home immediately, which isn’t technically a lie since my mom needs my help with chores,” Scott alludes, flashing his teeth a little.

“That’s sweet,” Steve acknowledges.

“She’s all I have and it’s a nice way of showing I appreciate her,” Scott adds, shrugging as if he’s trying to play it cool.

Steve can see through him, though.

“I know what that’s like,” Steve empathises, taking on a more solemn tone. “It’s just me and my step dad.”

“It’s hard, but it gets better, doesn’t it?” Scott inquires, staring down at Steve for solidation.

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve concurs, and he means it. “It always helps to have friends by your side.”

“It does,” Scott says distantly. He bites his lip, arm accidentally bumping into Steve’s. “I like to think of you as a friend. I know we’ve never really hung out or anything, but you’re cool in my book, Rogers. Plus, you like going to punk shows. How bad can you be?”

“Thanks. You’re my friend too, Scott,” Steve returns, beaming up at the taller boy. Their arms brush against each other. “We’ll have to hang out one of these days.”

“You can definitely come sit with the cool kids at lunch whenever you want,” Scott offers, nudging Steve again. “You _and_ Tony are welcome.”

“I'm holding you to that!” Steve warns with a stern tone, but it’s good-natured.

Scott and Steve walk all the way to the latter’s house, chatting away about nonsense, and both forget why they did this in the first place. They completely forget to talk about the gig because Scott’s too busy telling Steve a far-fetched story about his friend Luis. The story has Steve in stitches which results in his swaying into Scott from time to time all the way home. Steve is only knocked out of his reverie when he looks up to see someone standing at the base of his stoop.

“Bucky!” Steve calls out with a surprised smile that’s all teeth. “I thought you couldn't make it!”

“I finished up a lot sooner than I previously assumed,” Bucky responds, lips pulling up at one side in a half smile. He looks over towards the kid next to Steve, giving a nod in his direction. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Scott. I go to school with him,” Steve introduces, stepping aside when Bucky walks up to them.

“Nice jacket,” Bucky compliments, looking the goofy kid over with a raking of his eyes.

“Thanks, but I think you pull it off way better,” Scott comments, giddy with nerves.

“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” Bucky asks after a moment, gaze flicking between Steve and his new friend.

“Not at all. I was just walking Steve home,” Scott notifies, patting the smaller boy on the back tenderly.

“Scott actually wanted to know if he could come to the gig,” Steve pipes up, remembering why Scott had walked him home in the first place. “I said I’d put in a good word for him.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow at Scott’s hopeful and nervous smile, straightening up as if he’s in a job interview right now. Bucky regards him for a second, noticing the ripped up jeans, converse, jacket, and witty pop culture shirt he was wearing. He definitely seemed like the type of punk that was just starting out and it made Bucky grin a little. Scott reminded Bucky of himself when he was roughly that age.

“You go to shows?” Bucky probes.

“All the time!” Scott states with confidence.

“And you’re cool?” Bucky follows up.

“Like liquid nitrogen,” Scott declares without batting an eye.

“Okay…” Bucky says slowly, flashing Steve a quick grin. “It’s this Friday at Mick’s Music Box. Eight o’clock on the dot.”

“Sick! Thank you so much!” Scott gushes, brimming over with excitement. He looks over to Steve, clasping him by the shoulder. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later, Stevie! It was nice meeting you too, Bucky!”

“Thanks for walking me home!” Steve calls after when Scott jogs away.

“Later Scott!” Bucky adds before turning back to Steve.

“What do you think of him? Nice, right?” Steve asks meekly, hoping Bucky doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“I was gonna say _goofy_ , but yeah… That too,” Bucky agrees, putting his hands on his hips.

He’s staring at Steve with a predatory gaze, stepping forward slowly to crowd him up against the railing of the stoop. The small of Steve’s back hits the corner of the rail and he gasps at the sudden sensation of cold metal pressing into him. Bucky is staring down at Steve with a hooded expression. His eyes are dilated and the way Bucky grasps the railing behind him makes him shudder at his closeness.

“I'm not gonna lie… When I saw you walking up with that kid, I was a little jealous,” Bucky confesses with a sultry tone. He brings his other hand up to cup Steve’s face and strokes a thumb across the prominent cheekbone. “You’re still mine, right?”

“Til the end of the line,” Steve vows, breathing shallowly when he realizes how close Bucky’s is and how anyone could see them if Bucky were to just move a little closer.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighs with exasperation, like he’s out of breath. “I could take you right here in front of everyone.”

Bucky presses in closer to Steve until his body is nearly flush against the slighter boy. It makes Steve cautious and he even looks around to make sure no one’s watching, but Bucky cups his chin and raises his gaze back up towards him. Bucky leans down and kisses Steve softly on the lips for a brief moment. Steve melts into the contact and braces his hands against Bucky’s chest. Steve pushes Bucky away slightly, turning pink with surprise. Bucky sighs deeply.

“Shit… I'm sorry, tiger,” Bucky apologizes, realizing why Steve looked so worried. “I keep forgetting you’re not used to the whole _PDA_ thing. You’re just too perfect _not_ to kiss.”

“Well, we could go inside,” Steve proposes, the blush high on his cheekbones dissipating somewhat. “Bruce won’t be home for quite some time.”

“Yeah?” Bucky breathes out, voice thick.

“We could put some records on and… _hang out_ ,” Steve adds, noticing how Bucky’s pupils take over the rest of his irises.

“How long do you reckon we have exactly?” Bucky questions, licking his lips.

“Enough,” is all Steve says.

Bucky seems to consider this and bites his bottom lip, practically groaning at how sweet and innocent and nervous Steve looked right now.

“You’re asking for trouble, tiger,” Bucky warns, shaking his head at how insatiable Steve is.

“I’m well aware of the risk,” Steve counters, trying to sound confident even as his pulse quickens. He switches up the game and turns it back on Bucky. “Why? Are _you_ scared? Because we don’t have to do anything.”

“You’re a punk,” Bucky chides with a short laugh.

“Jerk,” Steve retorts, shoving playfully at Bucky’s chest.

“Well then, since you’re _so_ confident,” Bucky starts with an airy huff as he extends his arm towards Steve’s front door. “Lead the way.”

Bucky takes a step back to give Steve some room and watches his hips sway as he climbs the stairs. Steve’s got a narrow little waist, narrow _everything_ actually, and Bucky can’t help but think how gentle he’d have to be so he wouldn’t break Steve immediately. His thoughts are dispersed when Steve unlocks the front door and beckons Bucky inside.

He follows Steve down the hallway to his room much like the other day when Steve had given Bucky the green light to touch him more intimately. He won’t forget the way Steve had moaned and pulled his hair all while his small hand stroked him to completion. Bucky’s pulse is pounding in his veins and his blood runs hot. Bucky isn’t sure if it’s Steve doing this to him or the crap he injected into his arm before he came here. Maybe it was both.

They get to Steve’s room and a bout of silence befalls them, sapping out all of the confidence that built up to this point. They both stand there waiting for the other to make a move so they wouldn’t have to. Steve, surprisingly, is the first to move as he makes his way over to his record player to put something on. Unsurprisingly, it’s the Ramones album Bucky gave him and the first song starts right up.

Steve takes a seat on his bed, folding his hands together, and looks over at Bucky with a shy expression, batting his lashes slightly. Bucky starts by taking his leather jacket off slowly, almost like a tease, and tosses it off to the side. Steve takes note that Bucky is wearing a muscle shirt that displays his sinewy arms perfectly. He sits there as Bucky walks over to him cautiously, taking a seat right next to him.

“I'm glad you ended up coming by today,” Steve tells his lover, reaching out to hold Bucky’s hand.

Steve turns Bucky’s hand over in his delicate grasp to stroke and play with Bucky’s calloused fingers. Bucky leans his head in closer to Steve’s and nuzzles the side of his head as he watches the younger man fiddle with his fingers. It’s endearing and gentle but the moment is cut short when Steve comes across the track marks gracing Bucky’s pale skin. Steve frowns and lightly runs his fingertips over the fading and, as well as fresh, puncture marks.

It makes Bucky retract his arm from Steve’s grip, avoiding the elephant in the room before it can rear it’s giant head. Steve wants to say something, but he can’t choose his words carefully enough. So they sit there, listening to the record playing softly in the background.

Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to place a hand on Steve’s leg, squeezing it tenderly and making Steve’s breath come out a little less smoothly as it had before. Steve looks down at Bucky’s hand, waiting with bated breath as Bucky runs his strong hand up and down his thigh. It gets Steve’s blood pumping and he instinctively moves to face Bucky when he feels the older man begin to lean into him.

Their lips connect and Steve responds to the way Bucky kisses him chastely just by rolling with the punches. Bucky cups Steve’s face in his hands and deepens it when his lips part ever so slightly so he can explore Steve’s mouth more thoroughly. Steve sighs into the embrace and lets Bucky lay him down across the length of his bed.

Steve shudders when he feels the entire length of Bucky’s body press into him and he lets his legs fall open to accommodate him properly. Steve whines low in his throat, squirming a little to distract himself from how antsy the whole situation made him. He wants this, don’t get him wrong, but still scares the crap out of him. Bucky must sense this because he pulls away slightly to look down at Steve.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Bucky purrs, rubbing his nose against Steve’s playfully. “I'm not making love to you today.”

Bucky claims Steve’s lips in another intense kiss that ultimately leaves both of them breathless.

“I had something else in mind.”


End file.
